Looking out across the valley,
I thought of the stars that had fallen
And come to rest in the dried-up river bed
Winding its way through the long grass.
I thought of the ambitions
Nursed and raised by humans
That gave their spirits sustenance.
The wind whistled by.
Standing on the crest of a hillock,
I pondered on the dreams
That I had once had and cherished,
Like spools of golden thread
That would unwind before me and lead me
Out of the Minotaur’s maze.
Those dreams have burnt out and fallen, just like the stars.
And I have only my own two feet to lead me out of my past.
But from this desolate state, ambitions stir and awake,
And I am glad to be standing, relieved of my dreams, back at the start.