My path, embedded with charred hopes and broken dreams, jerked and often meandered to unwanted places. As I mended my bloody feet, those traveling on softer roads laughed and told me I wouldn’t succeed.
But something burned in my gut. It propelled me as my salty tears disinfected scrapes and bruises.
On the ascent to my long-awaited destination, others who mocked me cried at the unfeeling sky. Their supple shells, accustomed to plush grass and honey-soaked fields, couldn’t endure the last challenging steps.
I struck out on the blazing stones. My callused feet pounded down obstacles and left the others behind.
How true. Beautifully written. I remember as a young man back in my hiking days in East Asia being in awe of the very old men and women still climbing steadily up the tallest peaks wearing the thinest of soled slippers. I was amazed at their physical accomplishment, but failed at the time to consider the message they were sending to those much younger who turned around halfway up and failed to make it to the peak.
I admire your endurance as much as your ability to express it so lyrically.
Such beautiful words to express the strength within.