Will-o'-the-Wisp

Freedom walks many paths, but avoids many too,
saving them for another time, perhaps, or simply

heeding the whisper of the will-o'-the-wisp:
Not for you, dear – hear, here is your way, and

she flickers and flits to a magical trace, trailing
light dust in her wake, just enough to invite your
curiosity or, if you're practiced, to elicit your
longing. Is this path long? Is it lonely? She does

not say, only dances three steps ahead, giggling
as she goes, turning fear into play with each of
your footfalls on the forest floor, wending a way
into dusk, then dark, enticing you to follow, free.