A path weaved of many paths,
Borne from the actions of one and the thoughts of another.
Twisting and turning, carving, walls towering, ensnared from every side, keenly observing. Which path? What will be and what will become of me?
Valleys sweeping low through the hillside, paving the way through dense fog, stumbling. Or climbing, over dark and heady air, breathe and breathe again, in and out.
Inhale the the sweetness of the coolness surrounding me. A warm embrace guiding through the unknown, so many paths to the one destination.
I am not convinced of the path ahead. Two steps left, one step right. A puzzle missing pieces, no victory, no conclusion in site.
Yet to stand still with so many opportunities. Only a fool stands still.
Take the first step.