---

some would argue
i should have turned around
at the first drop
that hit my cheek

some would say
that the flashes in the distance –
hazard whites on darkening blues –

were my warning

to stay home,
go back in,
keep under glass.

 

i don’t know if it was the addictive little crunch of gravel beneath my feet
that kept me going

i don’t know if it was the cry of the bawling windmill –
siren song in metal spires –
that propelled me on

i don’t know if it was the thunder
that rolled above
like a harmony to the hunger inside me

but i just kept on walking.

 

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i walked into a storm and found the wind to be at my back

i walked into the rain and found it to be cleansing

i walked over wet stone and found

it forgave my missteps

and erased my wrong footings

and stayed the hopeful emissary to my every next step.

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∴

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