The Dark Road

She walked alone on the dark path toward her future. Glimpses of light on the horizon appear as mirages. Sometimes she could hear voices in the darkness calling out; voices with suggestions for her quest. Not all suggestions were directing her on the right path. Some thoughts she hears are just provoking her towards erroneous ways. Her path is a maze even though it goes on straight for miles at times. Each inch walked is a memory. Each foot traveled is an accomplishment. Accomplishments turn out to not be all that forthcoming nor fulfilling.

The years pass as she makes her way along the path. Thoughts of her own come and go. Each thought unaware of its creator. Every once in a while she remembers something profound, either from her own thoughts or the ones she has heard. She thinks that if she could just remember, put them all together, they’d fit like pieces of a puzzle that came with no picture. The ideas are clues. The journey is a mystery, and yet she walks. She yearns to run, to breathe, to feel the burning sensation in her lungs and in her legs.

Like Atlas, the weight of the world rests on her shoulders. She doesn’t know why and she feels this burden. She sometimes walks as if asleep. She is always in thought; praying to a possible god to hint at her purpose. The path is not ever straight forward. No signs, except for the occasional bodiless voice, to urge her onward.

The ground is comforting as the exhaustion overwhelms her physical and emotional body. Sometimes she is aware that the comforting ground she rests upon is crawling with insects and hard with pointy rocks. She has become used to taking comfort in the uncomfortable. Everything is uncomfortable. There has not yet been a moment that has come with ease, but she knows she must keep going on along this particular path. Even when she feels defeated something keeps moving her. It is her strength, the will to survive. It is her inner voice that sings to her the lullabies.