No Maps

I wrote this after my father died. I was with him till exactly 2 minutes before he died. I was not destined to take walk beside him the last two minutes of his life.

No Maps
For a moment,

close your eyes,
Visualize a dessert
a golden emptiness
stretching everywhere...

All across this vastness
a tapestry is woven,
a million different tracks,
moving,
crossing,
parting,
always moving...

Crossroads...
Paths meet,
move together,
sharing a part of their journeys,
giving of themselves,
taking for themselves,

Then the crossroads
Paths seperate,
move on...
richer for the meeting, yes
But,
Other companions
Await...

They have met
for a reason...
most likely,
undefined to either
maybe they will know
now,
one day
maybe never...

Who needs discoveries
to be discovered
or frontiers to me explored
We have this existance to chart
and
there are no maps...

Rushina