The surprise of hearing my own voice
like seeing slivers of light filtered between the trees
The words are whispered which I could have missed
Words of encouragement, a push
My eyes are closed, my attention sharpened
I am resting a bit after walking long
My breathing is trying to catch up with my steps
In trying to reach my goal I struggle
There are benches, handrails, sources of spring water
I am vulnerable but not feeble.
I am not alone, or helpless
Though night is approaching I am not lost.
Is it the wind or spirit descends from above the trees
A voice telling me a place in eternity
The place where I am going.