I stand there as if I’d been tagged in a childish game of freeze tag. Unable to move my body in order to align myself with anything real and viable. Frozen like a stone that sits in the middle of the creek, with only a small portion of it peeking out for the light of day. And though it stays put and is ever-seeking, the light lingers just on the edge of sight.
Skies of blue on this tingly, Autumn day, present me with a sense of well-being, even though the warm colors of dieing leaves whirl around me. The melancholy thirst that I have for days gone by often makes my head spin and my thoughts mock the flight of the leaves. Where was I then? Why did I do that? but–I can still ask those same questions—and still find no definitive answers.
The longer I stand still, the heavier it all becomes, my thoughts, my will, even my body. Surely there must be a ladder somewhere, somewhere closer to the taunting blue sky. I yearn for the warmth of the sun and the light breath of a midday breeze. Still, the heaviness feels so in control, but I am not happy with its face. It is not a friendly face. I want to run from this place, but which way would take me out of here?
There’s a big tunnel to the right, with a bright, amber light at the end of it. Then there is a gravel road that entertwines with another and becomes one. There still is the path, worn and glistening in the glare of the sun. It travels Northward, toward the big sky. Which road should I travel? Do I need a guide or do I lunge forward with all the breath in me, to a destination far from where I have been or do I cling, safely to the cover that has sustained me this far?
As I raise my hand to wipe away a leaf that has anchored to my hair, I briefly catch a glimpse of a willowy figure softly etched in the shadows of the path heading North. It was only an instant. A mere moment in the span of an existence. Yet, a choice made for me by fate, perhaps.
