New path in the woods
leads to fresh delights.
The old one has eroded and
is now a deep trench. Logs and
branches strewn across to
send us off elsewhere.
My brain becomes rutted tooÂ
with old worn trenches.
The same angry reactions.Â
That over-rehearsed scene.
Trails of thought running in loops.
We can cut new paths in our brains,
they say, leading to edges of new thought
unknown hidden vistas
territories verdant and fresh
waterfalls of understanding
valleys of contentment.
Does it not seem foolish to
follow the old roads whenÂ
we do not even like the endpoint?
yes