The voice in my head says
“Be here now.” I stare down
at my scuffed shoes, thinking,
“Where else could I possibly be?”
In front of me, blinking, a sign
says, “You are here.” An arrow
marks the spot. So, I see,
I must be exactly where I’m
supposed to be, though
newly arrived in a strange place
where these worn shoes
have delivered me. I am weary
and ponder, but only briefly,
the merits of indecision before
outbound, heading off
in a new direction, saying,
“Who am I to impede these feet
from finding their true and
final destination?”
