I cannot see the ground.
A layer of cloud obscures the view,
Keeping me from seeing the truth below,
Presenting only an illusion of solidity.
The world is smooth beneath me,
Imperfections and character lines
Obliterated by mists of water and ice,
A frozen mask of uniformity, of sameness.
I can only speculate what lies beneath,
Plumb the depths with imagination as my guide,
Probing fingers of thought descending into darkness;
Questioning, questing; wondering, wandering.
Even in my fear of the known to be,
There is faith in wonders ahead,
Where distance and time are not enemies,
But rather opportunities to explore and discover.
Even as some journeys end and others press on,
My next adventure arises in the unknown,
And with each step, my spirit is renewed;