The path beckons to the distant horizon,
I put one foot in front of the other;
slow and deliberate, mindful and aware.
As if all journeys are pilgrimages.
To go to the next mountain,
or the next country.
Or to go within.
Alive in the knowledge
that each step
takes me further from the known
and into the unknown.
Leaving only traces of footprints behind
to be wiped off by wind and rain.
Poem by Ansua Dutta-Wystup