The Path is long,
and I am tired now.
I remember signposts on the way:
long summer days, and bicycles;
grey hitchhikers' highways,
stretching into the unknown;
looking for love, but not knowing her face.
So many winters, that lasted too long,
and so many queues, waiting for people
who would steal my time
to feed their quest for power.
Wise men who babbled nonsense,
and fools who spoke truth;
friends to whom the word
simply meant padding in their address books;
dreamers who dreamed big
yet functioned small,
dismissing opportunities
as distractions.
The Path has been long,
and I am tired now:
I knew who I should be,
but in effecting change
I became more of me,
and less of whom I should have been.
I am peaceful now
as I rest here before going on.
I am content now
as those who love me
love me without condition.
I am tired now, but the Path goes on,
and Change still awaits.
