traveler's pledge
Jessica Myers
“Take my hand.” He said.
“And we will travel together.”
“Down this wild and winding path.”
“This path less taken,”
“Though, like us, it may be strange.”
And I did take his hand,
And together we traveled,
Through wild and wondrous woods,
Over steep and twisting trails,
Wherever our fancy took us.
“Look at this.” He said.
“While we travel together,”
“Our sky is more brilliant,”
“And the storms are less fierce”
“And my hand will be in yours.”
And onward we traveled.
And the sky was dazzling,
And storms whispered and died,
Our steps carried us forward,
Traveling, steadfast, side by side.
Suddenly, I stumbled, alone and lost.
“What has happened?” I cried.
And only Silence answered.
For he could not say.
His hand was no longer in mine.
Now, I am left with only
Cold and distant stars,
To guide my way,
Over a twisting, broken path,
Deep into darkness,
Travel leaves me weary,
My sky is dull and grey,
The storms cry in my ears,
And the pain in my chest,
Makes it hard to go on,
A shadow, a rustle,
A whisper on the wind,
“I am waiting.” It says.
“In a sun-dappled meadow,”
“‘Round the final turn of the path.”
The voice is familiar,
I can feel his warmth,
His unwavering hand in mine,
“I am coming!” I cry.
Ready to dash ahead.
“Not yet.” The whisper says.
“You still have far to travel.”
“But, when you are ready.”
“Come, take my hand,”
“And we will travel together.”
And so I travel still,
Blazing an often lonely path,
Struggling to find beauty along the trail,
For I know that one day,
We will travel together again.
“And we will travel together.”
“Down this wild and winding path.”
“This path less taken,”
“Though, like us, it may be strange.”
And I did take his hand,
And together we traveled,
Through wild and wondrous woods,
Over steep and twisting trails,
Wherever our fancy took us.
“Look at this.” He said.
“While we travel together,”
“Our sky is more brilliant,”
“And the storms are less fierce”
“And my hand will be in yours.”
And onward we traveled.
And the sky was dazzling,
And storms whispered and died,
Our steps carried us forward,
Traveling, steadfast, side by side.
Suddenly, I stumbled, alone and lost.
“What has happened?” I cried.
And only Silence answered.
For he could not say.
His hand was no longer in mine.
Now, I am left with only
Cold and distant stars,
To guide my way,
Over a twisting, broken path,
Deep into darkness,
Travel leaves me weary,
My sky is dull and grey,
The storms cry in my ears,
And the pain in my chest,
Makes it hard to go on,
A shadow, a rustle,
A whisper on the wind,
“I am waiting.” It says.
“In a sun-dappled meadow,”
“‘Round the final turn of the path.”
The voice is familiar,
I can feel his warmth,
His unwavering hand in mine,
“I am coming!” I cry.
Ready to dash ahead.
“Not yet.” The whisper says.
“You still have far to travel.”
“But, when you are ready.”
“Come, take my hand,”
“And we will travel together.”
And so I travel still,
Blazing an often lonely path,
Struggling to find beauty along the trail,
For I know that one day,
We will travel together again.