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When I first began on the path
I was like the statue that I was standing next to;
when I first looked at what I could see before me,
I couldn’t see anything or anyone-
but at the same time I felt this draw,
I felt the edge of this wave coming towards me,
as if the path were a river,
or like the wind outside an open door;
I felt something in the cold air that took my breath away from me-
like the chill that you feel from a draft.
I knew that I either had to close the door or walk through it,
or perhaps turn back and walk away;
and then, right then, I heard you, I saw you,
I knew I had to be where you were,
but I knew you were not at the end of the path- you couldn’t be-
because that would be impossible;
but I have never believed anything is truly impossible,
and I have never, and will never, give up hope on anything or anybody ever;
and that was when all my answers came to me.

The sun was above me and behind me,
and its light guided my way and made the path shimmer and glow.
The trees that lined the path on either side
moved and jostled in unison for a second,
and as they did, for an instant, I could have sworn
that I was somewhere else, in another place, at another time-
like I was reliving a memory,
but which I didn’t recognise as being mine,
it felt like someone else’s thought,
it felt like yours-
and that was when I knew I had to walk the path.
I could see the end that awaited me,
and I knew where I had to go.

It had been raining earlier,
and there was still a slight and fine mist in the air.
As the rays of golden light from the sun
bounced off the wet ground rainbows appeared
and veiled the path in every colour of the spectrum;
and that was when I felt caught and pulled,
as if by a current, or as if the very ground beneath me
was moving by itself and taking me along with it.
Walking the path as it appeared now made me think,
feel, and experience the sensation of walking
through a hall of mirrors at a fun fare.

I heard nothing but the sound of a slight breeze through the trees,
but there was also this faint echo
that seemed to be getting loauder and stronger
the farther I walked and the closer I got to there end of the path-
the echo was a voice, your voice;
the drumming I felt was my own heart beating.
As I passed the empty black painted benches with the brown wooden seats,
I thought for a second I could see someone sitting there
looking at me, or reading, or listening to their own music-
like impressions, echoes, or shadows in the sunlight,
left and preserved forever-
like a moment of emotion and contenment captured in time,
that may fade but wont ever be forgotten
and will draw back those who made those impressions
to this spot, time and again.

As I neared the end of the path,
I felt lost and consumed by the flow of energy all around me-
and like when you swim out to sea,
I felt compelled to turn back and look at the path behind me,
and in that moment that was when I literally felt your vibration,
because that was when I saw, realized, and then read
a message from you that you had just sent me-
and in that message was a picture of your smiling face
that you wanted to share with me,
and also a text from you telling me that you love me.

I instantly replied to you with a photo of me smiling
on the path in the park and a message from me
that ‘I love you too’, and as soon as I sent you that message
there was a blinding flash of light,
and as I turned around to look at the rest of the path in front of me
I saw that the path didn’t end as near or as soon as I originally thought,
and I suddenly had this epiphany that these next few steps
in the beautiful sunlight were not my, or our, last;
and I saw that there wasn’t an end or a definitive finish line
to where I was, where I am going, so that is why I kept going,
looking, feeling, and smiling, as I continued to walk the path.

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Sitting in the park on a beautiful morning,
surrounded by light, life, and sound,
what I am doing feels life-reaffirming,
what I see is phenomenal, stunning, inspiring-
everything feels new, fresh, original, one of a kind,
never been seen before, bright, beautiful, pulse-racing, exciting.
I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want it all to fade-away.
I don’t want to take anything for granted.
I don’t want this to just be another day.
It doesn’t have to be, not if I don’t want it to-
not as long as it is all about the me and the you.

Everyone walks though life at different speeds.
Everyone lives different lives with different needs.
In the city, I see people of all ages and nationalities going about their day:
students coming to and from university,
smart-dressed men and women commuting to work,
children with a day off from school enjoying the sunshine-
as they smile, run-around and play;
kids discovering things with their parents,
parents discovering things about their kids-
from where I am, I see and I embrace
what they will probably never remember or think about
until they get older;
those moments that define a child and a parents relationship with each-other.
It is really nice to see and to read the under-lying language
that only a member of the same family is fluent in and privy to-
those looks and expressions that only they know the meaning of,
which if you are an on-looker it is like a foreign-language,
or a code that you can never know.

You don’t realise how precious time is until you get older
and you see the people and the places that you remember
change beyond recognition;
you don’t realise how much you miss
until someone reminds you of something that you shared together,
that meant so much to you at the time,
but unfortunately got filed-away in the filing-cabinet of your memory-
now only a snap-shot of a moment, which you never meant to ever forget
but which fades over time like an old photograph-
that can be brought back to mind and life
with the help of only the smallest of reminders
and enjoyed again, if it is a good memory,
of a time in your life that you always want to put-away
and rediscover again over and over on a sunny day.

Every day I see someone I have never seen before-
even in places that I have been to a hundred times,
or down roads that I have walked down more times than I can remember.
I see a new face- I see the beginning, the middle,
or perhaps the last chapter of someone’s story-
and every time I share eye-contact with a new person
I cannot help myself from wondering who they are,
who they will be-
I do not judge anyone by how they appear,
because to everyone- even those who you think you know-
there is always more to see.
I cherish the little things about people and about life,
I adore the moments that people freely throw-away without a second thought
that tell you about them- a story that they recite to themselves
when they fall asleep at night.

Sitting seemingly alone on a bench, on a hill,
in a park of untouched green grass,
looking out, looking up, looking within,
I have a moment of ponderance,
and in silence I think about the story that I am writing,
the legacy that I am leaving;
why I am who I am;
why the people and the things that I care so much about
mean so much to me;
why even though I have no one beside me I am not alone-
what that means, and why that is so important to remember.

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