I move along the passageway as if a storm’s great coming that first shows up in the wind and tumult of leaves across the pavement pushed me.
No volition.
No will of my own.
The edge of the path begs me stop.
Like a hand held to my chest, no more motion.
She stands by my side, alongside waiting, she knows there the path leads and that we will once again step out.
Wisdom. Sophia beside me
when I least expect to find her along.