The Journey: Discerning a Vocation

Sometimes you cross a hilltop looking back

And never understand how far you’ve come

Until you turn and see the winding track

That leads back to the place you had begun:

The darkness of the valley and the trees,

The strange release when rivers happened by,

The rocks along the edge, the far-off seas,

The wide and open brilliance of the sky–

The sky that over all renews its light

With every passing morning that you climb,

Although you never thought within the night

That darkness might be over in its time.

You stand and look; a sudden rain has passed,

The air for just a moment understands;

You turn again, breathe in the sun at last

And start downhill to other foreign lands.

(Written 2001. Some prose reflections on the same thought here. Image: Pexels.)