CONTEMPLATING FLIGHT

The horizon is on the rise. And the sun has graced the amber sky once more; raising its rays over the mountaintops like a champion reaching for his final grasp on Everest's apse. The tides have ebbed and there lies a vast shore of glistening rock. The wind says its final frozen whispers. Soon the sun will be high up in its majestic throne. There's no hint of green as all are in purple aura and blue mist. It is a unique sunrise unfolding on the land where I once witnessed the sun rise for the very first time.

An avian soars high on the Artist's canvass, amidst brushtrokes and daubs of cotton. How great the view must be up there, much more relish the tranquil bliss of such expanse. Yet I am but an adventurer with footprints on the sand and a staff that shall lead me to places for a thousand steps more. I take a deep breath to enjoy this sunrise as it may never be the same again tomorrow. After all everyday is a new day.

My loafers have gone far; walked on coal and ashes, broke rocks and twigs, snails and serpents ne'er amiss. They tell of a tale of disuse yet when placed side by side with another's, it seems they had seen better days.

Ahead, there's nothing but Poseidon's realm. And as this sun rises once more, there lies ahead a foggy path that these loafers have yet another tale to tell. It is an adventure, one that's for the taking, one that requires courage yet discernment for the wise. The dearest things in life are but a shadow to the impulsive and a few have succumbed to a fall for losing such gems. In the land of the living, there are no echoes and wails of regret. Only scars and photographs to tell the tale of what was once a great adventure.