A journey

I was once asked,
while passing on my way
at the end of the road
“why do you continue?

You have reached the end of your way?”
I pondered to myself
In silent reflection
And responded thus


“the end of this road,
while dusty and worn,
is hardly where I plan to be


I set out on this road
To reach a point
And learn what I could of its winding ways


I began a white blank canvas
It took me to gold sun
and green valley and dale,


passed into the blue
the on red rocks of warning
And here I stand at the end, in black,


now all I see is open horizon
I see knowledge and wisdom
And reach for the same


in the course of this wandering,
Maybe several score at a stretch,
I’ll find what I seek”


Then my friend, in turning his head,
Questioned me “so you appear to be done,
Yet a whole journey is ahead?”


“not just any journey.” I replied,
“but the whole unending trip”