One step in front of the other on concrete and cemented path; my gut tightens and whispers to me what I already know.
And the day came when it was time to leave the paved way and well worn roads.
The mountains and the moss called.
My heart listened.
My soul answered.
I stood at the front of the forest.
Who wants to know a story’s end, or where a road will go?
No compass but the knowing in my bones.
No path but the mapping of my BEing.
Hand me the machete.