When the path is clear

So grateful for the days when the path 

Is wide and clear; dry and speckled with light. 

I’m learning to be grateful as well 

For the days when it seems 

I’m bushwhacking through the woods 

Or backtracking, lost, and circling round 

To the same wrong results repeatedly — 

If only because they teach me by comparison 

 To more fully appreciate 

 What good fortune I do find. 

I wish I were more like Edison, and could say 

 I have not failed, but simply found 

10 thousand ways that do not work.