I was born out of the dust and the path before me called my name

I was an infant carried in-kind strangers arms,

they carried me the first couple of steps

They set me down, held my hand,

showed me the pretty colors, and taught me their names

“The hike is long,” they told me, and I scoffed

It cannot best me, I’ll walk now on my own

“Alright,” they said and gave me a map

I shoved it in my satchel and began up the hill

The peaks of life before me are daunting and distant, but I walk

My shoes are ever-shrinking and worn, a passerby gives me theirs

Oh, how my map has grown now, but still so much more to see

The trail is rocky and cruel sometimes,

the path ahead insulting my progress

But I walk on

The storms are stormy and wild

The air is getting thinner now,

I work from dusk till dawn,

Paying no mind to the road and its taunting

I have wisdom and love to give

the trail Is still beautiful and long

I quicken my pace at the sight of one ahead of me

Competition! I’ll win.

The air is thin and my bones are sore

I’ve seen all I was meant to see

I give the passerby by shoes and tokens of

Knowledge and love, how beautiful is life to see

I reach the valley at last, and the trees welcome me home

Before I return to the dirt I look back

at the peaks I climbed in admiration remembering each one

They smile at me and my triumph

I did it!

I take my map from my satchel, let it rest on my chest, and think “what was the point?”

And returned to the dust from which I was born