I

There's the Salt Road, the Spice Road, the High Road and Low one
The Whale Road, the Silk Road, the Iron Road and Gold,
The Sky Road, the Sea Road, the Northwestern Passage,
Each road's called a name it alone ever holds.

Each road has its lore of songs, stories and dances,
Which are danced by the campfire or watering post,
And ev'ry great road is known most intimately
By the weary old feet that have travelled it most.

II

Thro' vast quiet forest, wavy prairie or ocean,
Thro' mountains, great snow-dusted silicate bones,
Thro' high silent halls and sun-ravaged desert
Each road traces lines through its natural home.

Each road has its camels or oxen or horses,
Its lorries or tankers or thundering jets -
And prized are the men (or in some cases women)
Whose touches and voices can handle them best.

III

Countless inns, campsites, wayhouses, clearings and harbours
Offer sleep, food and comfort; dice, love, gossip and drink.
In the face of minstrels and lovers and barmen
Each road has more signposts than the unseasoned think.

Each road has great villians, and still greater heroes,
Who've braved the worst weather or done the worst crimes.
Great gamblers there are who name Luck as their lady -
For she's brought them the risky routes dozens of times.

IV

It's taxes, or armies, or foodstuffs or tradegoods,
Or moving the mail or the government man -
That the travellers care for it's a separate issue;
Each road's got a cause for the distance it spans.

Each road has its throughways of shouldering traffic
And long lonely stretches or solitary ways.
The fairs and great cities draw the travellers together,
While the dead-ended tracks lead the mapless astray.

--

I have seen many roads, read and heard of their wonders;
I've fallen in love with their twists and their bends,
But it pains me there's some that I may never travel
And some I may walk without reaching an end.

April 1, 2005