This Afternoon Poem by Trevor Toews

Beside the road, at a little gravel turnout, I stop and park
Both the road ahead and the road back home seem dark
I check the mirror, blurred be the tears that flow
I'm at a loss, which way to go.
I plead for a sign, some little ray of light,
But they both seem wrong and they both seem right.
I'm a rebel if I do this, but a coward if I don't
Call me steady if I go on, a hero if I go home
For a moment, it's clear where I need to go,
But still, I really don't know
So I rebel, then pray, the cry, then cower
And vacillate for over an hour.
I bring the nose of my truck square with the shoulder,
And wish I was not so brash, or a little bolder.
Now it's left or right, and it's time to move,
But there's still no way to really prove,
So I pick a thing that could happen either way
And one more time, I close my eyes and pray
The outcome doesn't matter anymore,
I offer my fleece, and I watch a station door,
A man comes out and I turn to go,
To the left or right, you'll likely never know,
I headed up the road, or was it down?
What matters is the peace I found,
Both ways were dark, but in faith I started out
And the farther I drive, the less I doubt.
And the farther I drive, the less I doubt.