Imagine you have set off, the path looks long, but it's beautiful and you know you are running the race of life. Hand-in-hand with your best friend, soul mate, advisor and protector. You run together, laugh, cry at times as a few blisters and aches and pains arise. But togetherness wins through and keep stepping onward.
Then out of the blue, thunder rumbles, skies turn black and the path becomes treacherous, lightening strikes and the path with your best friend beside you falls off the path, you have no time to plan, no time to think, all that is in your head is survival and you must keep going. Rain beats down heavily, no idea where the path takes you now, the one you were on destroyed, the one you see other racers on...
Jumping over boulders that threaten to make you fall down, you carry on, the weight of four extra heavily laden rucksacks you have to manage, protect and carry with you, alone.
The path is no longer a path, you have no map, no guide, no blue skies, no relent from the rains and the thunder and lightening keeps beating down, forcing youto your knees.
You are now bare foot, stones piece the sole of your foot at times, but you can't stop to bathe or bandage your hurting feet. They just have to keep carrying you.
Onwards you go and you cannot see ahead, if you lift your head up to try and gage the way ahead, look for your best friend, the rain drowns your sight and it's harder than putting your head down, and treading on.
You limp and cry out in pain at times, agonising cries. But the rucksacks, the four extra now you hold you have to keep holding on, keep persevering through the race.
I don't know when you will surface agin, your 'I just want to be at home with my family' the 'why am I here?' That echoes round the valley as I try and find you...
You asked me on Saturday 'what happened to me?' And through tears of painful joy, as this is the first time you have been this aware, first time I have heard this, and oh how long I waded along this path hoping to hear that cry, I explain it all to you. Though this particular cry stings, it is the first time you are this aware.
The rain continues to beat down the path still so unclear, still no road markings, or even a steady path.
I continue to scale rocks, climbing with nails hooked into crevices that I am sure will break. And some of them do and I just have to hook my nails into other crevices, dragging myself along and around and up and through.
Wondering if I will make, ever, the top.
Wondering if I will find you, rescue you and bring you home again...