The Spirit's Method

I saw good vision, a distant flag marking the end of a journey. Before me lay a multitude of paths, of summer and winter, of desert and lake, of forest and wasteland, of swamp and tundra, of gold streets and cobblestone. A wisp of wind pushes me forward. Like an unbridled horse, I lunge forward. Hunger arrives and the wind is gone. The flag begins waving in the distance. My knees kiss the earth, hands embraced in sweat and tears.