Daughter of Ariadne

My finger touches the thread.

Feeling.

Waiting.

Wondering.

Going around and around.

Finding new paths.

Sometimes I see the old ways,

Winding right along beside me

And know it would only take a side step,

Or a misstep and I could be right back where I was.

Except, it wouldn't be, because this is now

And that was then.

So I'm seeing things different

And feeling them different

And probably walking differently too.

Because things change.

Some loads are harder to carry than others.

Some almost carry me.

But it's the movement I cherish.

Keeping my finger on the thread,

Knowing if I keep putting one foot in front of another,

Something will change

And that's the adventure.