A salsa of separation

[GEETASHREE]

These scampering pathways
Rushing through the wicket
Lining the bed of roses
Brushing past the bushes
Hiding in the thicket
Jumping by the stream
Heading into the green
Cruising under the bridge
Escaping the ridge
Dribbling down the valley
Running through the alley
Trudging up the hermit hills
Twisting round the old well
Twirling past the crooked bend
Will they ever meet again?
Dashing down their own way
If they ever lose their way
Will they call out for each other
To hold hands and stroll together
Towards their journey's end
Will they never meet again?

[blazeofglory]

These pathways of course meet at intersections, and yet these meeting points are brief and start off again. Every trail commences from a point and ends up at a point and wherefrom another expedition originates. Not that there are no crossways and manifestly journeyers happen upon one another for a fleeting moment since we cannot have a gripe on time and it is passing all the while. The meeting is short-lived but the reminiscence of it outlives.