The road I walk is paved with stones — each stone a question
— a question set in the concrete of possibilities. The questions are
firm — the possibilities are sure — and together the road is flat, smooth.
Nothing protrudes enough to be noticed — it all forms one long
journey, for there is no rest and no end. Along the way sometimes
I pass another wanderer. We pause and exchange questions
and possibilities; sometimes we journey a distance together.
Eventually we part and the walk is, again, alone.
Dismal? Not always, for there is more than just the road. If I
look up, I see trees, sky, birds, houses, the sun, the flowers, the life of
the people, the people, schools, offices, stores, factories, grocery
stores, movie houses, cemeteries, children, old folks, the rich, the not so
rich, the sellers, the buyers, the merry, the mourning, the road.