August 21, 2022

The Way is Made

They carry titles like
Windswept, Wanderlust, and
The Field Guide to Getting Lost.

Even without reading them 
I know what they will say:
“The way is made by walking.”

And I've enough life behind me
to know that's how I've engaged 
my entire existence.

Most people walk to progress --
Yes -- there is that, but -- 
I walk to find my way.

Taking the slow route, 
the more difficult route,
I walk to make sense --

to discover -- trusting I will 
stumble on some hardy truth
or sight worth veneration.

And if not, I will walk hand
in hand with what I cannot 
know, and not name it, Fear.

Walking becomes the practice --
a dogged participation,
regardless of state;

a preparation for something 
more than mileage,
more than endurance.

A form of hope held without rest.  

Which is why I will stride 
as deeply into old age 
as this body will allow.

Because out here is where I find it -- 
and all of its antecedents
and germinations,

culminating in a way found -- 
no matter how crooked, uphill,
and mud-bound I make it.