I see several footprints in the dust. They lead to different places, to different stories, to different lives. I cannot follow any for the wind erases those marks when I try to pursue them. I also cannot see the marks that I make for they are left for others to see and know and believe that no matter what happens, life goes on. It tells me and them that I can't try to follow any path other than mine and that I am the captain of my own ship of fate. And it tells us not to stop anywhere until life do us part.
In the barefooted prints of the poor man I see the cracks of his life, slowly disintegrating. He struggles to eat one square meal, yet he doesn’t give up not until the last straw fails. He will not worry about anything other than the immediate tomorrow. There is but little hope for him. The winds of time will forget him soon enough. The winds of time will forget him when he is gone.
Then in the tracks left by the pair of broken, secondhand footwear I see the owner's worries. He is anxious about his children, his health and the fearful prospect of future. He has but few securities. He doesn't have a sound future but he will continue trudging the way till his end. The winds of time will not remember him for long either. He will die away.
The footprints of the shoes of the busy executive hold several secrets and even more anxieties. He worries about his promotions, his fussy wife and the prices of the stock-market. He fears tomorrow. He will be wiped away like sand by the winds of time. It won't take too long.
The pencil heels of the rich woman desperately trying look young tell stories of deception and doubt. She has cheated many. She has fears. She needs her money to survive and in some ways is still trying to turn time back. She is disgusted by a dirty beggar. She pays no heed to the middle aged worried middle aged looking man or the businessman in the crisp ironed suits. She lives for herself. Her tale won't be repeated for long. She too will disappear with time.
There is an unknown man hidden in the shadows, all alone. There is a farmer worried about rains. There is a old grandmother deserted by her off-spring. There is a woman worried about her weight. There is small boy who wants a new toy. But they too will go.
Then? Then there is me. I am young. I have a long way to go. My tracks still have a long way to go. My story may be told to others, or it may not be. But I will go on. I will go on for others to see that I can. I have ‘miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep’. 'さようなら' (Japanese)