Walk a new path this new year!!!

One day through the primeval wood, a calf walked home as good calves should;But made a trail all bent askew, a crooked trail as all calves do.Since then three hundred years have fled, and I infer that calf is dead;But still he left behind his trail, and thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day, by a lone dog that passed that way.And then a wise bellwether sheep, pursued the trail o'er vale and steepAnd drew the flock, behind him too, as good bellwethers do.And from that day, o'er hill and glade, through these old woods a path was made;And many men wound in and out, and dodged and turned and bent around,And uttered words of righteous wrath, because t'was such a crooked path.But still they followed. . .do not laugh, the first migration of that calf.

This crooked lane became a road, where many a poor horse with its load Toiled on beneath the burning sun, and traveled some three miles in one.And thus a century and a half, they trod the footsteps of that calf.The years passed on in swiftness fleet, the road became a village street;And this before people were aware, a city's crowded thoroughfare. And soon the central street was this, of a renowned metropolis;And people two centuries and a half, trod in the footsteps of that calf.A hundred thousand people were led, by one calf near three centureies dead.

For humans are prone to go it blind, along the calf paths of the mind;And work away from sun to sun, to do what other folk have done.They follow in the beaten track, and out and in and forth and back.But still their devious course pursue, to keep the path that others do;They keep the path a sacred groove, along which all their lives they move

But how the wise old wood gods laugh, who saw the first primeval calf!

Anonymous