I’m at a crossroad, it is dark and
I need flashlight, not a floodlight
That will be asking too much,
A candle will do too
One that doesn’t drip sentimental waxy tears
Into my glass of wine.
I’m stumbling around hither and dither
Can’t make up my mind which way to go.
I’ve tried to ask God,
But what I get from him is scornful silence,
Like ringing someone you know is at home,
But doesn’t trouble to pick up the phone ‘cause
He knows its you.
So the only thing to do
Is to sit where the road forks
And wait for a fellow traveller
To come sauntering along
And lead me to
Where mornings begin;
Hope she ain’t blind,
Needing me to be her
White walking stick.