Pack Light

Every journey mothers the traveler by concealing heartbreak with a misunderstood provision. In the place of warning, it plays a skillful melody. Carefree and strident, we go singing into the cavity of destruction. It holds back perfect knowledge of a frightful drop. Sojourn only wishes to fortify hearts against a devastating chasm that will turn back calculated persons. The gaping mouth of the earth has gorged itself on leapers who once boasted themselves to be something great. Yet time has swallowed up their names along with their personal stories. As it comes into full view, we realize too much of our money was spent on canteen. There is not enough real estate to see us through our pilgrimage. Even as men of education, we entertain longer and longer running starts. There is no spring on our bones. None of us posses Olympic gold. What business to we have in estimation when Bobcats slink off. Should we perish on the cusp of our much cherished destination? The agony of failure is so thick, one could churning it to butter. A small miracle could anesthetize us from the pain the not having the bigger one. Our final ration of bread is the last of fading delights. And just as we begin to melt into the dirt, a suspension bridge made of piano wire and ivory lay to the far right of our eye shot. Though it presents a modicum of hope, there no way it can support the weight of a single adult let a lone a company hardy men. It only took one of the least of our band to crack a smile. We all catch his suggestive smile like a cold. His mind is not hid from us. Musicality is not a real means of transport. Yet we are all dead men, so why not attempt the ridiculous? We break out in sweet chorus. The ivory seems to strengthen as the wire vibrates with an unforgettable chord. Inside the speed of a blink, we are on the other side with our song still on our lips.