Wandering this wooded maze
entwined with vines, impediments,
one would last expect a path
appearing out of nowhere, though
here goes the ground from mud to plank
paving certain progress forth,
to where I cannot tell from here,
prepared, I sense, not long ago,
and with it comes a wondering:

proceed along a furnished route
or take my chances branch by branch?
Predetermined steps ahead,
or hazarding an unknown way?

Further still: a bridge to cross
signifies divided land, a breach
perhaps too deep to leap.
Fear has never been my guide.

Digressed so long without an out,
it lends the readied trail allure
- except I got to here, thus far,
without a map, yet with intent
to navigate most barriers,
my compass charges on through faith
(in myself and providence)
experience and enterprise,
invention, peace, and tolerance,
advancing my potential self,
even as some shadows smirk
and thorns assault my head and hands.

I own my choices, turn by turn,
with purpose and few backward looks.
Destination? Liberty.
Unplanned my road shall ever be.