I don't ride I walk along roads never lonely along paths always busy Regrets for company all hopes are companions nothing behind me a thousand miles ahead My feet swollen My legs aching like hell But the ground is as quicksand to stop is to disappear A departure is irrelevant a destination is still a dream What thoughts I find on the path will nourish me All plans push me forward Over the next valley more adventures await Around the next bend more Joys are skulking and bored Just waiting for me to arrive.
Written while on walk about in Morocco a lifetime ago.