Inaudible Maps

From the womb thrown onto crosswalks
right side up,
upside down
still the map reads invisible ink

No directory for the streets we walk
no road signs to guide our quizzical steps
there is no left or right,
nor rear view mirrors to retrace

only the present to launch us
across hills savoring delicacies
contained of sorrows, laughter, and hope

Though not walking blindly
shoulder to shoulder we trek
one foot in front of the other
holding onto landmarks crafted by ancestors

Some we remember
some we ignore
choosing landmarks that resonate
gravitating toward lights
reflecting the inner person