The Unseen Path

He walked where rivers broke the plains,
Through whispered mists and fleeting rains.
Each road he traced, each wave he crossed,
Held something found and something lost.

The stars above would light his way,
Yet none could hold the ache of day.
A pull unseen, a thread unknown,
Drew him onward, alone, alone.

In markets loud and forests deep,
In towers bright where secrets sleep,
His eyes would search, his heart would bend,
For something felt, but never penned.

Was it a voice, a fleeting trace,
A shape unseen, a half-formed face?
The world grew vast, yet still it turned,
Toward a glow his soul discerned.

And then, one eve, in twilight’s gleam,
A light arose, both real and dream.
The wind stood still, the stars held fast,
As if the endless wait had passed.

He took a step, the silence broke,
A warmth unfurled with every stroke.
Though words were few, the promise clear:
The long road ends; the glow draws near.