For We Write Poems prompt: Crossroads
Greek goddess of three faces
never looks back to past
which brought her here
to crossroads. Perhaps because,
like all of us, she carries it
always with her.
Forever carved in stone
looking to right, left, forward,
yet unmoving, poised always
as though to make choices,
but making none.
Perch for birds and what
they leave, constant listener
to pleas of curious drifters, who
ask, “Which way should I go?”
How would she, could she know?
Veiled in long gone centuries,
beginnings hidden in obscurity,
definition, like slight of hand,
depending on mind of men who
created her legacy. Always looking
this way or that, unmoved by winds
that touch her face, leave no trace
Deep sadness carves her expression,
perhaps due to chains of remaining
here at intersection, without specified
direction, always waiting, wanting
to know which way she should,
or could go.
Some name her witch in other
traditions. Were she one
of that kind, would she not
whirl herself into that passing
wind, leaving nothing behind
except echo of cackling glee
to be set free, and how many years
would need to pass for such
a burdened soul to finally
Or would she immediately know
that it makes no difference
which way she goes?
ELizabeth Crawford 10/20/10
Note to any interested readers: Procedure done, and two stents were successfully put into place.