Sometimes I wonder if one can wander too far from ones destiny, like a traveler who takes the wrong road. At first, the roads seem parallelone as good as the other...matched in slope and direction. The traveler is unconcerned, enjoying the new road for what it is - an interesting detour - always watchful of the road he meant to take sliding along just across the brook.
However, soon ensconced in his travels, he momentarily looks up and sees the brook has become a river. A brief moment of concern is squelched by the nervous assurance that a bridge is bound to turn up soon. As long as the road is in sight, all is as it should be. Besides, he has miles to travelplenty of time to change direction.
He takes in the company of a fellow traveler, to enjoy a few short miles of the trek. The conversation is good. Perhaps fascinated, perhaps intended only to be in passing, he offers to carry some of his companions burden. Just for a while he says. But, he has not noticed the road he walks is bending, ever so slightly, and the roar of water is fading just the tiniest bit.
And suddenly, he stops to catch his breath. When did he get so tired? His companion has moved onto their own road, so now he looks for his; but it is gone - nowhere in sight. How far have I traveled? Panicked, he climbs the nearest mountain, squandering much of the strength he has left, in an attempt to get perspective.
Frantically, he spies itis that it? Its so far away, so hard to see. Is that my original road, or simply another path meandering off in the distance? In his fatigue, he sits on a stump, left lifeless on the hillside. He sees the road, but cant seem to trace a path back to it. How many miles would I have to go just to return to my intended starting place?
He sits motionless as the sun sinks low in the heavens, studying the two roadsone taken, one not. Which one was my intent, and which one was my folly? Have I simply wandered the countryside with no destination? Would that be more or less than anyone has ever done?
So he sits.
However, soon ensconced in his travels, he momentarily looks up and sees the brook has become a river. A brief moment of concern is squelched by the nervous assurance that a bridge is bound to turn up soon. As long as the road is in sight, all is as it should be. Besides, he has miles to travelplenty of time to change direction.
He takes in the company of a fellow traveler, to enjoy a few short miles of the trek. The conversation is good. Perhaps fascinated, perhaps intended only to be in passing, he offers to carry some of his companions burden. Just for a while he says. But, he has not noticed the road he walks is bending, ever so slightly, and the roar of water is fading just the tiniest bit.
And suddenly, he stops to catch his breath. When did he get so tired? His companion has moved onto their own road, so now he looks for his; but it is gone - nowhere in sight. How far have I traveled? Panicked, he climbs the nearest mountain, squandering much of the strength he has left, in an attempt to get perspective.
Frantically, he spies itis that it? Its so far away, so hard to see. Is that my original road, or simply another path meandering off in the distance? In his fatigue, he sits on a stump, left lifeless on the hillside. He sees the road, but cant seem to trace a path back to it. How many miles would I have to go just to return to my intended starting place?
He sits motionless as the sun sinks low in the heavens, studying the two roadsone taken, one not. Which one was my intent, and which one was my folly? Have I simply wandered the countryside with no destination? Would that be more or less than anyone has ever done?
So he sits.