The Ways

by Michael Colantoni


To every man there openeth
A Way, and Ways, and a Way,
And the High Soul climbs the High Way,
And the Low Soul gropes the Low,
And in between, on the misty flats,
The rest drift to and fro.

But to every man there openeth
A High Way, and a Low,
And every man decideth
The Way his soul shall go.

John Oxenham
Selected Poems of John Oxenham

john oxenham