In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Happy Wanderer.”
She was going on an adventure, a quest into the deep.
The road she took, wouldn’t look, the same after her travels.
As her foot hit the trail, the crisp air shook.
Her eyes went upward, a prayer on her lips, she whispered “This is it.”
The woods were dense, the fog heavy before my eyes.
The mournful cry of the wolf sent shivers down my spine.
The rumble of thunder and the light rain made me wonder if I should continue.
I look behind, then forward. No turning back.
Indeed she felt fearful, indeed she felt cold, but she was already sold.
The twists and the turns were but a small concern, her crusade was far too important.
She worried not, but only thought of what was ahead.
She knew there would be joy and she knew there would be pain, she continued just the same.
I am a dreamer.
I lay on the soft turf looking up into the night sky, dreaming of what is to come.
What kind of person will be when I end my journey? Will I be the better for it?
My travels have tested me, and caused me to use my wit.
Many strangers did she meet on her road to find meaning.
Some spoke wisdom, and others caused her to stray,
but every time she did, one man came to her and would say “Come with me, this is the way.”
I would follow him, he had wisdom and he knew the trails.
When he saw that I was on the right path again he would say “Till next time”, then turn away onto another route.
The last time I saw him go, I realized that I was almost to the end of my road, and my adventure almost over.
Her journey was over, she was at the end of the path,
she had not been overcome by the perils and temptations of her venture,
the girl looked up into the blue sky and let out a sigh, looking over her shoulder at where she had come from and where she was now, said “No regrets.”