The path

When you walk, you may notice that it goes uphill. If you are attentive, you make out a destination, there in the distance, farther up. It shows itself to you, shows you the way, and points somewhere.

You can take your steps along colors of different lanes—or the other way around. They always have to do with the destination. On some of them something is standing; or someone. Like you. But by the time you get there, the path may already look different again. Look at it, speak to it, take it along, set it aside, integrate it, or something else entirely. That has to do with the destination.

It becomes clearer the closer we get. Sometimes we jump, we sit down, we are distracted by something on the left or on the right: recognize, decide, change lanes, resume, or something else entirely. That, too, has to do with the destination. And then?

When you turn around, you recognize. Tracks; all the colors. The path always consists of all the colors. That has to do with the path.

Ahead of me or behind me; we are all on the path. That has to do with us. We seem to know of a destination; where it seems to be and to stand, and where it seems to point. That has to do with the destination.

We turn around again. Perhaps it is time for a new color. That has to do with me, with us, with the path, with the destination, and with the doing.