Arriving

In my wandering mind, a sense of incompleteness remains, where new unopened doors of yearning wait. Looking across the valley, I see the trails of ridgelines, and the steep ascents, my eyes climbing up to passes on the tops. What is there to see? Only sights that frame another mystery; a hint of other doorways to the east. But somewhere, high above the valley floor, a place no one's been, waits for me. Getting nearer now, a new excitement brews, while another summit comes into view. The sense of fatigue melts in the heat as I lockstep up to another edge. Here, looking across the soft blue space, another wall of rock blocks the sky. And again, I search for a way to wander around the jagged tops, dark against the clouds. The moment opens up and a crowd of imaginings spring from seeds of new beginnings: as gentle murmurings in the wind, spiraling on the thermals like a hawk in flight. So, in this reverie of arriving, with melodies of sunlight and approaching storm playing in my head, the taste of the rain on my lips is sweet as life. I feel an urge to know what lies beyond, never looking back at things already found, and continue the endless quest.