ROADS

Samothraki, the way to Kipous. (Photo:A.K. Diez)

I love roads;

The goddesses that dwell

Far along invisible

Are my favourite gods.

Roads go on

While we forget, and are

Forgotten like a star

That shoots and is gone.

On this earth ‘tis sure

We men have not made

Anything that doth fade

So soon, so long endure:

The Temple of the Gods in Samothraki

The hill road wet with rain

In the sun would not gleam

Like a winding stream

If we trod it not again.

They are lonely

While we sleep, lonelier

For lack of the traveler

Who is now a dream only.

From dawn’s twilight

And all the clouds like sheep

On the mountains of sleep

They wind into the night.

The next turn may reveal

Heaven: upon the crest

The close pine clump, at rest

And black, may Hell conceal.

   Burton Dassett, England  (Photo:Artemis K. Diez)

Often footsore, never

Yet of the road I weary,

Though long and steep and dreary,

As it winds on for ever.

Whatever the road bring

To me or take from me,

They keep me company

With their pattering.

Crowding the solitude

Of the loops over the downs,

Hushing the road of towns

And their brief multitude.

Edward Thomas

From the book: Literary Walks of Britain