The Winding Path

By Betsy Lambert

Getting old is like climbing a hill—

we can’t do it in a straight line.

The ups and downs and rocks and creeks

interrupt our expected incline.

The path winds left and sometimes back right—

we never know where it will go.

Each step we take represents a new day

or even a new path we don’t know.

The rocks we move so we can get by

or else we climb over their peak.

Physical they can be or mental as well

but none are designed for the weak.

The ups we love since they make life worthwhile

but the downs get in the way.

Sometimes the weeds obscure the view

or rain spoils a sunny day.

Then there are life’s creeks that need a bridge

to get to the other side.

Our friends hold us up and keep us dry

through creeks narrow as well as wide.

We’re not sure what we’ll find at the top

or even when we’ll arrive.

But our journey there is all that counts

because it proves we’re alive.