Your northern property line
Crosses my former identity
South 80 degrees, 17 minutes, 06 seconds West
And markers outline the boundary
To take you to the place of beginning.
However, I choose you to follow
For along this single width path
Overhung with decades old growth trees
Is the heartwood that few ever see.
Although there is a public road
Leading from a past certain
Cross diagonally over the bridge
To promises not yet promised.
For I have made you trustee
And keeper of the lock-box key
To the outerland that remains wild,
To a memory that is still a child.