Direction

I'm glad I lost my way
because here I am now,
where I would not have been
had I followed direction,
and the wind blows the signpost about
-so,
which way was I to go?

My meandering has purpose,
and even though there is
straightness in the going,
I squint my eyes and imagine the road
snaking back on itself,
lapping and loving the path it takes.

I don't know a hiker who likes
to walk an even path all the time,
there has to be hills, streams, rocks
and the element of losing one's self along the way-
...and the ending up exactly where you planned,

well, what could be a more disturbing thought
than that?