THE END OF THE TRAIL


It was the end of the trail for me. I mean, I had been riding for miles, days, weeks, months, years. Oh hell, I have ridden all my damn life. I have miles behind me! Miles to go.

Suddenly! Suddenly, out of nowhere, on sandy soil no less, it ended! My trail ended. Vanished! It didn’t just disappear, Poof! It ended nowhere. It ended dead end, in a brush of bushes, a thicket of scrub trees. A thicket so thick, I could not see the other side, nor even look back.


“WHAT THE HELLLLLL!” I shouted. “NOOOOOOOO! NO! NOT YET!” And just like that, with no plan, no pain, no roadmap, no warning (I was having fun exploring on my trusty steed) and just like that it was over. I laid my yellow beauty down and I was gone! I was on the other side. My bike I left behind.


Shocked? Hell yes! Disappointed? Of course. I was on a ride on the other side. I was about to find out, discover. Instead, “POOF,” I was gone. I had left, unexpecting eternity. Damn! I had miles behind me; miles I thought yet to go! Disappointed? Uh perhaps, but then recollecting, I’ve had a full life right up to the end of my trail - and beyond, a golden lake awash with a vivid sunset. Not bad. Not bad at all.


So come see me on the other side of the bushes. Come join me on golden pond, where the trail ends and life after life begun.

photo by Troy



Author’s Note: OK! Okay. Now go back and re-read it, with GUSTO this time! Mean it! Throw the words. Slide, glide through that ethereal transition from life to life after life - live the poem! Take advantage of the vantage point of the poem and explore the viability of its meaning! Could the author have been on the other side when he wrote it? A prose poem by twt

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