Uncharted Journey

I have no map, no boat, no stars, no instruments to help me find my way. All I have is clocks to tick down time. Even if I sit on concrete road, refuse to move, I fear this place might be the end of all I know. I walk instead with no idea where I must go. No service signs, no welcome signs, no nothing telling me my course is true.

Why am I here?

I don’t know where I’m going,

and I didn’t bring my lunch.

Sometimes I meet somebody else, we walk in step, admire the view. They often take a different fork or melt into the fog. I’m left alone to find my way.

I have to chart my own path

with no pen or paper,

no clue.

published in Contemplate