At the Crossroad

Right in the middle, 
Out of nowhere, 
I chance upon a pole, 
Which has no doubt ,
The test of time, stood !
Being the guide, 
Before years unknown.

Oh so many placards,  
from it, does hang!
Oh so many directions,
It points, to which!
Eyes unaware of myself,
seems to trace, 
The ways, far possible, 
from my current place...

Yet another moment of choice arrives,
yet another finger-post,
a telltale sign of being,
At The Crossroad...