Toad and Frog

I walk alone to reach the path,

I have no bag just my shiny flask.

I hear the tale of the toad and the frog,

To see the two would surely lift my fog.

I leave the road to the desolate swamp,

I brave the waters as I dare not halt.

Across the meadow and into the pond,

The toad will sit alongside the frog.

I watch and listen across the sand,

I show the two my open hand.

They smoke their pipes all quiet but wise,

I stare and listen to the crow as it cries.

They watch and accept that I am no threat,

I stand and walk with my first three steps.

They smoke their pipes in a cloudy haze,

I leave the two with my head high and raised.