Belief’s the map we draw to show the places
We know will comfort us, as we trudge through
This empty desert--we mark each oasis
And then, to get there, what we have to do.
Each step we take fills in the emptiness
With signs and legends, dangers high and low;
Each stop we make, we log how we progress:
How far we’ve come, how far we have to go.
This map is only finished when we fall
Over its edge; then it will be erased
By travelers some new belief will call,
And on its void their own steps will be traced.
So does each life chart Life from age to age,
Plotting its course across an empty page.
Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells