A Journey -FFM 4-

Journeys never end. They begin, they continue, and they evolve. But they never end.

People say that to journey, you must travel from place to place, from city to city, and from home to home. People say that you must experience professions, friendships, love, and heartbreak. Without that, you have never journeyed. Most people focus too much on the material things – wealth, power, and property.

They forget about the spiritual journey.

They forget about life.

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A man stands at the edge of a cliff and watches the sun rise above the horizon. Its golden glow creeps higher, sparkling off the dew of plant life. Below the cliff, natural forests stretch towards the sun, towards the horizon. The forests encompass the cliff like a natural preserve.

Behind him, a woman steps out of the lone cabin, large enough for no more than three people. Her steps lead her towards him until she stands beside him and catches her gaze with his.

"Must you go?"

He sees her eyes, blue like the purest sky, reflect her frown. Elderly wrinkles deepen further at her expression and he shows her a carefree smile of white teeth in return. "You, yourself, told me that I should journey, to see the lives of others."

Her smile is sad, but understanding, and she reaches a hand to him. "Come home sometime."

He clasps his hands around her frail one and leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. "I will. Once I have seen enough, I will return – to visit you, to live with you."

As he pulls away, the woman shakes her head. Life sparks in her eyes and she presses her free hand to his chest, laying it on the cloth above his heart. "I taught you better than that," she says. "One can never see enough, just like your journey –"

"Never ends," he finishes. "I know, Ma. But I will still visit."

"Of course." Her other hand slips from his grasp to caress his cheek. "I know you will."

Her tone stabs guilt into his heart. She knows just as well as he does. He will not return. If he does, his return will be too late. Her frail body weakens with every day that passes. She is a strong woman. Even the strongest eventually move on. He will see her again – in the next part of their journeys.

He moves back and breaks their contact. He kneels and rises, his bag now in his left hand. Light and filled with his bare necessities, it will only be enough to feed him until the next city. There, he will restock, learn what he can, and then move on to his next destination. Time and instinct will lead him down his path and he will let it. He will follow his destiny and the journey that fate prepared for him.

Closing in on the edge of the cliff, he slings the bag over his shoulder and gazes out at the scenery. Nature calls to him, the essence of life. It whispers his path and tells him of the things he must do – the connections he must make.

He closes his eyes. His mother is right.

He will never return.