Mode of travel

Every breath is a step
On my long journey.
Every breath is a step.
Every step is a choice.
Dense fog covers the road.
I can’t see the what lies ahead
and only dimly remember the path behind.
I peer ahead
And see dim and half-formed wraiths
Twisting through the fog before me.
I strain to see the roots and holes to come,
Remembering the ones that caught my feet in the past.
I step hesitantly, arms held in front of me,
Eyes focused where I can’t see
And mind focused on too-well remembered stumbles from the path behind.
I must look like a half-blind madman
Shuffling and twitching along,
Afraid to step
Afraid to stay still.
“Fear is the mind-killer,
Fear is the little death”
To quote a better writer.

Every breath clears the fog around me.
My steps are actually covered in sunlight.
Where I am is very clear,
The path under my feet, firm and sure.
Were I looking where I am
Each tread would be easier.
I’m walking in a circle of sunlight that I never see
As I stumble and grope,
Panting in ragged breaths and
Peering in remembered fear into a fog I’ll never see through.
It’s exhausting…

Breathe in.
Take a step.
Stand up straight.
Take a step.
Lower the arms.
Take a step.
“Be still and know that I am the Lord.”
Take a step.
Look around.
Take a step.
Take a step.
Take a step.
Will I travel in sunlight,
Or grope through fog?

2 thoughts on “Mode of travel

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