What would you do if there was only one way? Only one route to choose, the rocks smooth and untouched.
There are people around you, so close, and you watch. Their feet never pass where you’ve traveled. For when their feet are tired they trod grassy hills, they sit under shade, turn their backs to the sun.
But you hike every mountain, you squint through the fog. Your feet are tough and you naturally climb high.
It’s not till you’ve walked a thousand miles that you know. You’ve forged your own way, you’ve laid every stone. And while others may follow… they can’t see where you went.
For it all ends at night, in thick woods and harsh brush. Many burrow underground. But you’ve jumped treetops, you’ve mounted the stars. You’re at home with the moon and you study it’s way.