New Beginnings
by Mary Walsh
When I was young, I looked
for the brow of the hill.
With light footsteps,
I made my way to the top
but as I reached the summit,
I found another hill beyond, another brow
beckoning me and leading me on.
“Don’t look back,” it warned,
“lest you be turned to salt.”
And so I ran or skipped or danced
or trudged towards the brow of the hill,
and the next and the next,
never asking “Where?”
Never explaining “What happened was”
Never planning,
Never regretting? That part is untrue,
I did regret but started anew
with each hill I climbed,
each peak I reached,
I felt the earth beneath my feet,
challenging me to the next and the next,
reinventing and renewing,
a chance to change,
a different view,
a chance to renew,
A new beginning.
Copyright Mary Walsh 2020
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I made my way to the top
but as I reached the summit,
I found another hill beyond, another brow,
beckoning me and leading me on.
“Don’t look back,” it warned,
“lest you be turned to salt.”