I no longer see a wall, but a horizon so vast and elaborate that I don’t know which to look at first. Speculations are made as to which direction I should walk; the destination at the end of the road. However now is when I close my eyes, spin full circles and go where my feet take me first.
I’m afraid to stumble on my own two feet and fall face first. I’m afraid to come home with scratches and scars that will be deemed a failure by most. Though I’ll likely be given wrong directions by bystanders who I thought knew where they were going, but was as clueless as I am. Although I’m not lost, that’s my difference to them. I was lost behind the walls, but not anymore. I’m surrounded with beings of time, who like me are full of beginning and end.
I have just won a brawl behind the dark alleyways. Though I stagger, I still walk away. I don’t look back, afraid that my conscience will call me. My wounds will soon heal, but I will always carry the fear.
I must walk on and journey to my purpose, the reason I gave myself to spark matches and light the fire. The same fire that burns inside my chest while I soldier on.
This journey is one I must take alone. However I cross paths with travelers on their own journey and I must be careful never to ask to come along with them. Though if anyone asks to come along mine, must I heed their request?
I’m no longer tired, but eager to arrive where the wind takes me —to where I want to be; where my roots will run deep and my stem stand tall, surrounded by time beings who have heard the same call.
This is where I will begin my beginning and end.