Mazes

You cannot know a person's strengths
When he is very young.
Which group with talents will he
One day find himself among?

The math or science whizzes
Or the athletes on the field?
The writers or artistic types
With pen or brush to wield?

You try a bit of this and that
To see what rocks his boat, 
Remembering that your own choice
May not procure his vote.

And certain smile-inducers
May not last for very long.
You think you've found the perfect match 
Yet find out you were wrong.

But at the moment, though it might
Be just a passing phase, 
Henry is enamored of
The paths within a maze.

His pencil grip is wobbly;
Still, he navigates the lanes,
Avoiding traps most deftly
As some confidence he gains.

I watch him as he travels
From the start until the end
And I wonder at the mazes
That in life he'll have to wend.