The Road, The Siren
She calls to me as I sleep, entwining herself within my dreams, showing me the way and seducing me with her seductive and endless opportunities. The sounds I hear when all is silent are muted in the darkness; the breeze on a hill top, the muezzin at dawn, the rain rattling on an ancient bamboo roof while, resonating beneath it all, a lonely street dog pines for its mate. Subtle yet powerful, teasing but full of charm, and mornings after those long and glorious nights I know it’s time to reunite with my one constant lover, and venture into the unknown once more.
She’s no less distant as the sun passes above, blurring my eyes with her songs and racing my heart with her promises. She’s a philosophy, an unseen notion, and though no human has ever lain eyes upon her, all who travel have seen her. We race to meet her, whether slow or less so, yet we hope we never meet, for once acquainted the mirage ceases. Yet journey we must, that movement for some necessary for life itself, and when the momentum stops the mirage grows, until again she rises in our self conscience both day and night, beckoning, and leaning on our desires with her persuasive and open arms.
She goes by many names, the one of whom I speak, but regardless of the alias, the calling is relentless. Wanderlust pulses through my entire being. She has me. I’m hers. A willing pilgrim, no longer willing nor able to deny my greatest needs. My shackles are off, and tomorrow I’ll by falling for ‘The Road’ once more.
**Yes, the Chic Adventurer and I are moving on again.