The Roads We take

The long drive home on a weekend is due
A tradition of sorts and a yearning not new
Every journey has its end and its the road that matters
Life is what you make of it, no matter if each new dream shatters

Just the road makes for a nice long story
Happy or sad the ending, not to worry
There were plenty before you that went this way
And many more to follow the silent sentinels say

The old wise trees are witness to your travels, one and all
The will not judge you or tell you for whom the bells toll
A new world arises for us as for them another falls
We are but a flicker of a candle in times eternal halls

Every trip has an image etched in memory, faded but precious
Some of friends, of lovers, of stolen kisses and fights vicious
Some of strangers standing out in the maddening crowd
I hold them close, those places near, those smells familiar and those voices loud

I remember you most of all in all that went by
Of that one trip, just you and I
Of the hug that left me wanting to just be
Forever together, carved as in stone but absolutely free

Before anyone reads into it, its just my entry into a flash fiction competition hosted by a friend..