At the crossroads, we pause.
Not because we cannot see the way forward
(We were never blind to what lies ahead),
But because once we step around the bend,
There is no way to wistfully peer over our shoulders
For that fleeting trace of what could have been.
Oh, dear soul, there is pain in the road that bends,
A reason why we pause when paths begin to separate,
Looking back again and again and again and again,
Hoping, ever hoping, that it is not too late,
To go back to the warmth of familiarity
When our eyes were not yet fully awake.