It is your way I follow when

there are no parents around

no sages, no wise men

to direct the cause of conviction

--just a meandering bumping toward

some place unnamed and unbargained for.

For you make paths for my feet,

my heart soon to follow.

And the mountain casts shadows here

that are remarkable, and I am small.

I will not be afraid when my toes

stumble and the turns don’t show up on any map.

I yet follow, convinced it won’t be long ‘til

you find me behind you, not even struggling

so hard to keep up.

—jennifer j. camp