A Wandering Digression



Where are you going?

What lines do you trace in the sand at my feet, across the hills thrice walked? What hallways do you drift down like ghosts in a monastery without faith? Which of these footprints are yours, or were never yours again?

So many paths, near and far, now and then. So many paths, sketched out in charcoal to measure your end. Which do you take now, which paths do you save until after the moment unexpected, when the suspense is over?

What will you leave by the wayside? How will you justify it to those who would judge the chaos in your wake? How will you continue without your burden?

Will you ever stop to wonder why or to whisper a prayer for the nights you did not forgive, the days that did not forgive you? Will you ever scream “ENOUGH” and let it all sweep you away, like leaves on the water’s edge?

Will you ever tell me?

Where are you going?


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