... end of way ...

Somewhen the way will come to its end, but we move on and fall down the cliff. I don't think we're going to fall hard. Water or soft grass will dampen our fall.
So that we can swim in the water of birth to our next path.

But I'm still on this path, a few hundred meters, maybe even e few more kilometres to go.

Why not change the way of walking, the clothing, the guide book on this remaining stretch.
I feel there is a wonderful guide book lying somewhere in the brush, I haven't found it yet. I so yearn to know what it has to suggest, to make the last kilometre of my path a reward for the hardships I had to go through, almost forgotten, hidden, but still buried in the depths of the path.

It's hot and arid, and I need to drink some water.


(c)