The king walked the old roads, until he found
the flowered path he'd followed long ago
to his fortune and kingdom. His step was slow,
his visage grave as he looked back. The sound
of songbirds made a heaven of the wood,
and petals carpeting his homeward path
perfumed his very breath, sweeter by half
than other airs on earth. He understood
how lucky as a young man he had chanced
upon the path he chose, how easily
he might have been waylaid or lost instead.
The sunlight rained through budding leaf and danced
on streams that babbled softly through the trees.
"I never should have come this way," he said.
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