DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

The Forest of a Hiker

 

As a hiker, I walk a trail one late afternoon, in the midst of rich greens and browns that beam over me with the orange rays that are fading with the twilight that embraces a forest.  I have been scaling jagged boulders and mossed planks of wood for the last few days, alone with the depths of the waterfalls that spill around me like rain and the presence of animals that shadow me in my attempt to find immunity from the everyday.  My map guides me across a plane of landscape that stretches in front of me forever, and my compass rests in my pocket, a tool for finding direction, my goal to find the gold from a pot that is hidden to the faithless, to find the fountain of youth that the elderly cherish the most because they lack it. 

 

As a seeker of eternity, I find a spot in a hidden and vacant field.  I build a fire and lay out my sleeping bag under an angelic blanket of stars that consume me with illumination.  Some stars shine brighter than others, some are able to hide more in the darkness that beckons to those that seek the forever that clashes with the promise of a passed time.  The stars sing a song to me as I lay back and breath in the night air.  The grey smoke of my campfire floats over me.  This is the last image that I am left with before I close my eyes and begin to dream.  In my dream I am a bird that is weightless like the smoke of the campfire.  I feel the air brush past me as I fly over the ocean that is my destination until the cold of the morning air hits my face.

 

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.