I stop, halt my tread upon the path.
Take a breath and look around.
I watch your back as you disappear ahead,
flying over the rock strewn path that tears at my ankles as I try to follow.
I know I can’t keep up,
I shouldn’t even be here trying to find you.
I was never meant to be here
but I saw you, wanted you, tried to follow.
A mistake that must be rectified
by painful choices and halted steps.
By stopping on the path, sitting down and breathing
while you fly ahead and out of sight.
I sit on the path and look around
at grey skies and rain that soak my skin.
The sun shines not upon the trespasser.
No blossom to sweeten the air, nor multi coloured butterflies alight upon my finger.
So where does this now rain soaked climber go?
Not onwards, for you are far away by now
with those whose rightful place is here upon your path.
There is no fabled crossroads, offering choices to the weary traveller.
Just this rocky path on which I trespass but can’t continue.
I could descend, retrace my steps and hope to find a turn.
A rutted lane, overgrown and mouldy, but nonetheless my own.
For now I will just sit and feel the rain and watch the grey.
I wanted this path, just this one, and am not yet ready to find another.
I must sit and ponder what was lost, no, never even caught, just chased.
I watch your back, you that was never meant for me, as you fly on out of sight.
Watching you leave without a backward glance, yet I cannot tear my eyes away.