Lead on! Lead on! my old, best friend, beyond the very end of this leash we both are tethered to.
Lead on! Lead on! Even though we do not know, and dare not say, exactly where we’re going… Even though there is no point within the compass of our ancient souls to suggest one way or another— no brilliant star, no station of the sun for us to fix upon. Whichever way we face, that becomes the direction of our knowing.
And yet you pant, and strain, and snuffle, and sniff, as if there were some secret (just around the bend or crouching under some bush) that makes sense of it all.
Lead on! Lead on! Beyond the very edge of this—our flattened earth— and be assured, for what it’s worth, that I must surely follow, and you are not alone.
