One step, another.

One step, another.

Travelling, one step, another;

pause. Glance around,

does anyone else seem to be heading

in the same direction? No.

Each new step

must bear the weight of a new decision,

an evaluation that balances

the original sense that someone

or something has called me out

beyond my comfortable self,

with the feeling of absurdity;

that the journey exists in the first place.

The fist place, of course,

had been long taken

by one who saw his path through

to its difficult conclusion.

Travelling across

a sometimes bleak landscape,

dotted with the sorrowful tracks

of those who have wandered aimlessly,

he proceeded to plant his own

intentional footprints of compassion;

small illuminations

that point defiantly to the possibilities

or pilgrimage.

Those who also follow take heart

from their defiant warmth

and are encouraged to add their own.

Ken Rookes 2010