Marks

Here it comes, can you hear the gong?
I hear it and it echoes strong and softly, it is rolling from the inside towards out.
Like a loud vocal exclamation mark in the middle of the road.
Stop for a second..close your eyes.
It is so bright and continues to light up.
now:

I IMAGINE A ROAD.

Behind me, teachers and bowl and waterfalls of ideas,
bounteous springs.
To my sides, the most of what is needed.
Simply I haven’t dared to know what I want.
I thought to my self, how far can a bowl reach?
It sounds like half of an apology..I think to my self.. sorry.

Even when I was already moving engines and I was racing hard, I could not get there, as long as there was shrouded in mystery.
I certainly and proudly allow my self to want what I want and stride my steps until I get there and I am allowed, at least for the moment, to be grown up. (Until now I was just lingering with fears of different shades, growing fears.)
And so, immediately after the liberation,
the compass had calmed down.

The road is spread out in front of me.
Waiting for my footsteps to be imprinted on it.
I’m going to walk it, you know?
I’m already taking steps
and it is wonderful, terrible and ephemeral
And whenever these three components fuse,
a moment of eternity is purified from them,
schorched into the thing
which had previously been a lump of clay
and then a cup or a boat.

Here I mark the day:

And the foot is already in its print
for taking the next step.