Adventure

I set out on a journey

No map in hand, no final shore,

Just a rhythm in retreat,

A pulse flickering in the eye of silence.

A path unseen unfolded ahead,

Each step — a whisper of a dimension unknown,

Where language melted into raw meaning,

And meaning became breath.

Time there wore a different robe

A sighing thread woven through galaxies,

Tugged gently by thoughts

Too ancient for memory.

There, a city dreamt itself awake,

Its walls shaped by forgotten lullabies,

Its doors opening only

When questions were whispered, not asked.

And I

I saw colors that never touched a spectrum,

Heard echoes of futures that mourned their past,

Tasted wind brewed in the lungs of stars.

I asked the sky what fear meant

And it thundered back:

“Only those who walk unmarked, unburned,

Fail to leave ashprints on eternity.”

A bird of ink and orbit landed on my shoulder,

Its feathers stories never told

It asked me gently,

“Were you seeking wonder,

or were you simply trying not to forget who you are?”

By the time I turned to answer,

The road I came from had become

Someone else's dream.

Adventure?

It was never just a path

It was the question

The universe asked in our voice,

And we, quietly trembling,

Were the reply.

We are the journey.