He walked slowly through the wooded area. The plants and trees along the overgrown path spoke to him. He wondered what lay ahead. He knew what lay behind. Aimlessness enveloped him, but he move on his Mission both clear and nebulous. He felt weak, but strength surged through him. Most of his life had been like this–the ultimate oxymoron.
Remembering the slow agonizing process of learning to read, and write he also remembered his diligence had enabled him to produce nubile, exotic forms when he set ink to paper. That life lay far behind him; now he must go on. The Sun hung high overhead but would soon win the race for this day and likely He would always win the race. Stopping near a stream the traveler pulled off his tunic and wiped the glistening sweat from his torso with the faded and stained garment. Once he had an assortment of these in an array of bright colors and a multitude of fabrics. That life was part of the one with paper and ink, music and soirees gone now like the fruits from last Summer. He wanted to return to that world–the security of the regiment and safety of the routine. The Way wouldn’t allow retreat. The person he’d been was dead.
When the Sun speed up His course, the traveler tied the sleeves of his tunic around his waist and continued his walk. He wanted only to lie down in a bed of leaves and grass and sleep with the kiss of Zephryus on his skin then awaken to the smell of a feast cooking. He wondered at the wisdom of his Quest. Must he do this? He wanted only to serve.
He continued forward.
Until he reached his destination, he could accept only that given to him freely and without solicitation. He would, he knew, be provided for. He carried no weapon, for he would be protected. The Patents as he called Them existed but from whence they came he knew not.
Forward he went–always. On a whim, he glanced behind him. The Path was not there. He looked forward. A dense fog was coming off the lake beyond the trees. He asked for protection and sustenance. A sharp chill traveled down his spine. His prayer answered he parted the Mist and advanced.
Nothing could keep him from his Quest; he was guided and commanded. Until told to stop he would advance. In service but not servitude he would move forward until the West of the Moon, East of the Sun.
