The tunnel gets darker
as you travel down
and your hopes and dreams
are further away.
The light that started at your back
cheering you forward
sending you with waves
of heat and heart
fade as you saunter on.
Soon you are alone
in almost dark
and almost cold
and not quite there.
Yet,
within the darkening is a narrowing
and focusing of direction.
Within the tunnel branching paths
do not exist for you.
A promise made at the beginning
that the end would bring relief.
That you would see the world correctly.
So only hurry down the path
set in stone and worn by eons.
Hurry down the trail
with purpose aiming true
as years before
and decades future will be wont to do.
Reach the end in comprehension
not an exit but a wall.
Life a journey worth the taking
not for finish but the sides
filled with offshoots,
dripping wonders mighty,
textured in life.
The wall is the constant
the hitting of it the reckoning
the stopping the inevitable.
The Proud Dandelion 