My Apologies to Robert Frost

My friend and I were walking in the woods talking, laughing, sharing our dreams and hopes. We came upon a fork in the path. Each of us was ordained to take different paths, but it was ok because our paths ran parallel for awhile. We could still see each other through the brush and the trees. We could still carry on conversations, although at times it was a little more difficult to hear each other. Sometimes our paths crossed again and sometimes they wound away from each other, but we were still close enough to know the other was nearby. Recently, though, these times are fewer and far between. We don't catch sight of each other very often; we can't hear each other as well. Sometimes our paths are hard travelling which leave us out of breath and unable to speak, anyway. I look ahead at my path and I don't see any twists or turns in her direction anytime soon. I know our paths converge again at heaven's gates. But I wish we could do more than catch a glimpse of each other. It would be nice to find a nice cabin to have a short rest, meaningful conversation and cups of hot tea.