Let It Go

This seemingly nonsensical journey is not without its finer points, its highlights, if you will. It is by no means entirely akin to pushing water uphill; there are shady spots to sit and rest tired feet and eat Blyton-esque picnics, even though the road does loom large ahead.

Recently, when forging my way through a miniature flood, I saw something striking bobbing on the surface of the muddied waters. I had no idea what it was, but I picked it up, on impulse, and carried it with me in a deep pocket whilst I navigated the rushing waters with renewed vigour. It propelled me forwards, somehow.

On dryer land again, I took it from its cocoon and looked at it more closely. I still had no idea what it was, but I found it rather wonderful and decided I would keep it. It never occurred to me to question to whom that thing belonged.

I have been carrying it for some little while now. Each day I take it from my pocket more often and look at it for longer. Each day I wonder if I would bother to walk forward if I did not possess it. Each day it becomes a little clearer that I must, though I do not wish to.

I should remember that it is not mine, put it down, set it on its way, let it go before I break it. Or, as is more likely, before it breaks me.