Though I have not always walked along the straight and narrow and perhaps I should have as the side roads always wound around through years of pain and pleasure, there is something, I would think, to say about the comfort of the known.
And now that path may once again open itself up to me, standing at the crossroads I cannot help but look around. Look back. Look forward and back again.
Visiting each little house I’ve built–some still left standing. How then to measure a success? Nothing there I could have ever imagined, but then I never had the expectations of a goal. Unknown is in its own way something yearned for, something sought. Once it becomes familiar one can move on to the next. And dreams not quite fulfilled but given time enough…well, they may need to be discarded. Trying is itself a trail decided.
Standing here I look around again and take a step. The time has come, I fear, to dim the lights and move along.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology