Not that I was lost
as I climbed through
the rocks and meadowrue,
I just didn’t know
where I was going,
but every step felt
like a small arrival
and no one step
felt like a place to rest;
the trail was sometimes
too faint to trust
and my legs were tired
and dusty and I was
sweaty and sticky,
while on my face,
I could feel it,
the truest smile
opened like sky
above the horizon
as I moved higher
through each switchback,
the town below
smaller and smaller,
then gone.