If there is one thing I’ve learned through the years, it’s that my journey is on-going.
About the time I think I have something learned and will never have to work on it again, more comes up.
Sometimes, I even think the destination is in sight; but then, the path turns and I go in a different direction for a while.
Here is a poem I wrote with this sort of journey in mind:

The hiker started up the path;
The way was quite unknown.
He had a compass and a map;
Still he seemd to be alone.

Step by step he walked along,
Breathing mountain air.
He watched the land and hummed a song;
He said a silent prayer.

On and on he walked that day,
Up one hill and down;
Through glen and vale, in sand and rock,
Till camp for night he found.

Then, in the morn, he went on,
His courage and strength renewed.
Crossing streams and hills beyond,
Until his goal he viewed.

But he would have to stop and rest;
The journey seemed so long!
Even though he’d done his best,
And benn so brave and strong.

So he slept and rose again
To face another day,
Seeking, walking around each bend;
The trek goes on that way.

Finally, at last he came
To a land so rich and fair,
He could not contain the flame
Of joy and hope felt there.

But still he had to journey on;
Two days, or three, or four.
To rest at night and rise at dawn,
To search; then walk some more.

Then, one day, he climbed a hill,
And saw with great surprise,
His destination with great thrill;
he could not believe his eyes!

This lovely place for which he strove,
It’s beauty unsurpassed.
His heart was filled with praise and love;
He had come home at last!


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