There ahead stands a man before me as I ascend the driveway beside my humble abode.
His legs long in the piercing sunlight of early morn.
A mirror image of myself yet distorted by the refraction of light through the fog as it precipitates off the trees of the mountain east.
A sign that the day is young, and so am I.
Or am I?
The caws and chirps of diurnal beasts lead me to step forward, leveraged in my mind as chants of encouragement.
My community of life waits not for me, waits not for no one, not anyone.
All around I’ve found this hard ground which seems to astound, even though I know it’s just a couple months till snow falls fro.
Drawn forth by the opportunity of a lifetime.
A lifeline, often abused.
Phone a friend, if only that friend wasn’t really just an enemy.
Another step closer on the way to my destination, a hesitation.
Will it be that today is the day, or am I still, a few moments away?
From the realization: that only I’ll get in my way.
What do you say?
Shall I Keep Moving Forward?
Indeed, indeed it is, a good mo(u)rning.
