In the early days, the gem gleamed.
The path was straight and smooth.
The leaves blossomed from the
well cultivated trees alongside the path.
5 So we thought it will ever be.
It blinked to the world as
a spark from the fire place.
Years went by,
the straight path wound roughly uphill
10 lost in the forest.
The leaves along the path turned brown
confounding the wayfarer.
The gem became dim
lost alongside the wayfarer
15 groping his way in the forest.
Ages gone by,
Passage of time being kind:
The gem resurfaced with the
wayfarer again, afresh
20 from the vicissitude of Life
from the road uphill
that wound into the forest
clearing a distinct track for itself
beaming for the World to behold.