Walk

People talk about paths to walk.

I don’t want a path.

If there is a path that means several have walked there long enough to mark the earth with their foot steps.

I want virgin grass under my bare feet.

I want the scent of the lake water in a strong and warm summer wind with no other scent to spoil it’s purity and power.

I want to walk forward into something new. Not something others have tried for and failed.

I walk into the wilderness barefoot and alone and sure and steady and confident in my capabilities.

Those on paths have failed to find solutions if all of our paths have proven to be small repetitive circles.

Or straight wagon wheel ruts.

Or twenty lane interstates that bring a person to and from but fail to bring them nearer and closer to one another though we are all inches apart.

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