I walk the path 

Narrow and twisty 

Tiny pebbles

In my shoes 


On my extremities 

A ruddy face

Shaped by sun


And rain


Hands and feet

Aching muscles 

The marks 

Of a seasoned traveler 

I know

Where I have been

But not 

Where I am going 

A tree draws near

I rest in its hollow

Where I am going

I do not know

Mind over body

Sustains me 


In the distance 

Draws me

I will walk again 

When morning comes