The dusty road

A silent thirst, a quiet road, a gentle turn
speaks to the starlit world
An old sign by the side
appears in the view
Leading to an unknown locale
Standing there I gaze into the mist
The thirst bites, it hurts
The signpost looks odd, though familiar
I pick up its trail, not knowing where it lead
I find myself on an old battered path
My instinct senses a vague familiarity
My breath quickens, the thirst shrieks
The frail limbs buckle down
And I fall down on the dusty road.

The dust is ruffled, it rises in protest
My falling body is engulfed in its flaring hands
'I submit, I give in,' I say
They withdraw their hands
and as I lie on the dusty road
They empathize, and stroke my eyes to sleep.

When I wake up, the mists had risen long ago
In front of my eyes stands a building in pristine white
A vague familiarity turns into a shocking revelation
For before me stood the school of my yore.

The thirst is quenched, life finds a way afresh
The wanderings in the wilderness come to an end
And with a new light in my eyes
I enter the hallowed gates
For a new beginning, a new lesson..