Covert Expectations

The trees may appear as trees but are not really trees

Suddenly I'm at a loss for energy. Momentum-less I stand on the winding road as the hitch-hiker with my thumb out trying to gain a lift; whereas before I was the marathon runner -- the wind in my hair; the sun in my face -- with a good rhythm. The progress was effortless, taking each twist and each turn in my stride. Gaining a second wind with ease. But today ... it went away. I was left feeling deflated. At a loss and disorientated; finding myself in a landscape I don't recognise. So today has been a struggle. Life has become taciturn, full of misgivings and little secrets in its shady corners. I'm ill at ease ... with a rucksack on my back now seemingly full of red herrings.

I gaze to the horizon and see only more of the same (again). Ahead of me a familiar shade stands waiting; also trying to hitch a ride ...

'Aaah despondency my good friend; what are your troubles today?' I ask, 'you seem as perturbed as I. Maybe we should hitch a ride together and share the burden. Maybe ... maybe not.' I note the sad face and decide against a kindred spirit. I am reminded enough by my own thoughts.

I choose instead to endure this perpetual monotony. No vehicle passes in which I could perchance an easy ride. Rain falls and dampens my spirits further. The manic day passes to eventual night and I gaze to the skies for any sight of the night wonders. For the stars ... for the guiding light which I seek.

Ahead over the distant mountains, beyond the line of darker shadow I know are the clouds, I see a hint of that precious light. It is flickering weakly, but at least its jewel still stands out in the firmament. It can still be perceived. Its heartbeat still beats that vibration. That magnet still pulls this questing heart.

I choose then to leave behind this sinuous trail, finding a break in the damp undergrowth. Breaking through I find the heart of a gloomy copse of trees. Within this grove I perceive a growing light. I am in awe of presence. A hint of communion perhaps. Maybe a rapture to break this sardonic spell. Maybe ...

I encounter there a circle of ancient stones; within a hollow dank and damp I stand. Touching bravely those ancient sarcens; pushing back the clammy moss ... gazing then at the shining countenances --- perceiving a vibration; the very heartbeat of this realm. I perceive the answers are there around me. Because the trees may appear as trees but are not really trees. They are only what I think them to be. I look closer ... and perceive the means to shatter the gloom ...

I retrace my tracks back to the road. I gaze back into the distance ... and gaze at the dot to dot lights within the firmament. Again, I find that guiding light ... and realise now my vision will never again be the same.