The path is dark; how can we find the way,
not knowing where to go? Our journey’s end
concealed in heavy mist. Day after day
we get no closer. Time is not our friend.
Without a plan, we move from place to place
and grasp at vague ideas. Our thoughts begin
to go in circles. Compassless, we face
an empty moor, no village, house, or inn
in view, no roads or tracks. Approaching night
enfolds our tent. Have we been here before?
The unknown objects, hidden from our sight,
out there somewhere. We linger at the door
and stare into the dusk. The sun is weak
and warmthless on our chilly flesh. The sum
of all our hopes wrapped up in what we seek.
We wonder if the dawn will ever come.