There's a silvered path
beyond your footsteps;
the future before your stride.
A shimmering stream
that directs you to its source
on the far side,
out of vision.
This is not the slime
from some giant snail
a witness to a route taken.
This is the opportunity
to travel a new path
upstream to the light.
But I may rest here,
on an available bench,
and follow you later
when my unknown
is your known.
This stream is silent,
dumb before the shining sun,
reflecting,
as I do
on what lies beyond.
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