Road

I want to clear the way for a road; cobblestone streets or straight black tar pavement. How about a pristine dirt path that leads nowhere, yet fills you with joy. That sounds better. The sun and the moon our only guides. Perhaps a white-sand beach awaits, waves crashing rhythmically and inviting. Or maybe a morning dew amongst a lush, green forest, a lukewarm lake to swim and recollect. A nighttime dip, warm water hugging our forms, gazing at the stars, imagining the constellations don't seem so far. The destination is not important, no need for a map, as long as you take my hand to walk the lonely path.

How does, “let’s be alone together sound?”

We leave behind a wake of energy, quantum particles that exist here and there simultaneously. They might as well be on one of Jupiter's moons, same moment, same instance, existing across space and time. Is there such a force as the passing of time? With its relentless power, unwavering with no compassion. You will marvel at beauty and despair, see hope come and go like asteroids in the sky. It will trample over your deepest love and make your fears seem obsolete and mundane. What would we give for that hug that never materialized, to linger on your lips waiting for no tomorrow, and have a mole burrow deep taking with it traces of your pain. Hindsight will slap you in the face, the redness on your cheeks stinging, and while short-lived, the memory lingers on, red and hot in your mind, reeling at options left behind.

Time.

It comes for you and always finds a path, it knows, somehow it just knows. That's why we make roads, to leave marks behind, imprinted with the weight of time it took to take that step, until it fades away into the unknown, leaving memories that float around well beyond existence.

It’s all there to take but fear leaves you in a bind.

- A. Garcia