Now I am on this path,
and ‘lit’ does not mean ‘well lit’.
It too gets dark, and even more
it is a very lonely path.
All I’ve known and loved,
have stayed behind,
it’s not their journey,
it’s not their burden.
Friendly ghosts still appear,
and I latch on to the illusion
of a reality built on memories,
built on the dust of yesterday.
I look up at the flickering light,
wishing it would be brighter,
wishing it would show more clearly,
why I need to be right here, right now.
But that’s just it.
It’s not something I can see outside,
It’s not something I can be given,
It’s what is here. Inside. Always.
No matter where I go,
No matter what I do,
No matter who I am with – or without,
It’s here, always.
I’ve seen it before.
I’ve felt it before.
It’s why nothing else
is good enough anymore.
It’s why this is the only path,
the path that shines the brightest,
lit only by the fickle, flickering light
but illuminated by my soul.