Tender

Tender

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Get on

Dare
 (Grand Bend, 2004)

A thousand ways beckon and forbid.

A thousand long paths diverge.

A few hopeful steps, round the bend. Before me a mountain of climbing. I hesitate.

I look back. Perhaps another way?

This path reveals a chasm.  Down that, a desert looms. Thistles and thorns; formidable passages. Ferocious creatures. Dead ends. 

I retreat.

Each path becomes a journey, each journey asks a lifetime. 

Each misleading sign points vaguely, whispers maybes. Beckons and forbids. No destination promised, just hints.

Each way asks blind commitment to one step, then the next. 

I feel ill-equipped.

Again and again, I return to the crossroads, daunted and uncertain any way is worth the struggle.

I don’t know where I’m going
or why I’m going anywhere at all.

Beneath my feet a warning, earth’s rumbled promise: you cannot stay.

Get on.

I sink to my knees. Will I let the ground crumble, swallow me?

The wind whispers though I can't hear meaning
under the howls.