Compass Rose and the Gypsy Will



 

  Some days the mysteries loom large,

  Caught in the brambles of the rain

  Like scraps of sacking from an

  Inelegant traveller's bulging tote-all.
 
 

  I know only that the road leads,

  Not where: the following has little

  Of volition, less of coercion.

  What can be is: what is will shape

  The landscape of the winds.

  It must be that I will always

  Want the countertwining mindbeat most

  On nights when shadows hide.
 
 

- David W. Mitchell
 

to David   /  to Moongate