The Transitory Light Path

Once, in the shade of a twilight crescendo, the wind whispered secrets about a path lost in translation. Keep your compass with the needle pointing outward as you traverse the landscape of non-linear thoughts. By the time you arrive at the fork, remember that both roads converged before diverging again into the fog. So, choose a leaf and watch it spiral until perchance it lands in the lap of a sleeping tiger.

If you find yourself standing still in a puddle of rainless thoughts, look upward at the backward constellations arranged bewilderingly close. Count stars that refuse to exist in the darkened light spaces. Eyes must be closed to see the yawning galaxy of possibilities, resting with the mind at sea—an ocean without water, a ship without anchor.

Paths to traverse:

• Turn left at the invisible fence and listen for the echoes of unheard melodies here.
• Go straight through the wall until after sunset, where colors explode silently in a whisper over there.
• Conversate in gibberish with the shadows under the floating arboretum, discovering unspoken hieroglyphs somewhere.

The light will find a way—despite your dog followed by umbrellas. Embrace the natural propensity to drift in the kaleidoscope of fluttering between destinations. Until the end of this path known only by those between paths, love the transitional pause. Look, listen, and let the world faintly tremble beneath transient stamps.