relief of a different sort
a reprieve 
the vastness of all the tomorrows
just beyond the literal tomorrow
is a quiet frontier
much like the desert I visited often in my youth
wide open space
I’m alone and will be too
when I reach the end which doubles as the beginning
newness with a sense of wonder
disdain for allowing myself to linger
pride though, in that I’ve made it so far
conflicting emotions, rambling thoughts
I’m searching for an unknown caveat
a way, which will take me beyond
time is telling, the passing of which the only guarantee
I will look back, soon, and congratulate
my old self for managing the toil
exuberance will follow