Guidance


The Waystation sat open for business
Someone had spray painted “PEACE” above a door of peeling paint
Dusty railroad tracks crossed in front, no longer going anywhere
…I had reached this place as a last resort

My original destination had seemed so possible
Gold and billowy white were more my speed
I felt I was bound for better things
With gentle, sublime music filling the empty space

Somewhere around Prescott I lost my way
I found myself following the coyote calls in the valley
The sigh of the wind among the pondersoa pine
And wound up in Chloride, AZ – sans my bags, my map, and even my shoes

But the view is grand
The sun warms my face
And the tracks remind me that all paths lead
Here


(thanks to Sunday Scribblings for the writing prompt, Guidance.  It took me in a beautiful non-direction)
(photo by kevincole)

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11 thoughts on “Guidance

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