The journey

One fine sunny day,
I had embarked on a journey,
To a place,
I had long since longed for.

On the highway,
Driving across the empty road,
I looked on at the clear blue sky,
Ahead of me;
The white clouds fluttering away,
Carelessly,
Like little butterflies in a flower garden.

I drove across the countryside,
Amidst the hills,
And across the fields of yellow;
The sun peaking out in between the clouds,
It's golden rays sparkling on the water,
Beneath the bridge.

Beyond the hills,
Across the river,
The sky had turned an odd shade of blue,
A shade that reminded of fear,
Fear of joy,
Of losing what was never mind,
The clouds were no longer careless butterflies,
They were,
Packed together in outrage,
My heart no longer fluttered,
It sat still.

I drove on,
In search of my destination,
The place I had long since longed for.
The place for which I had travelled all these miles.

I drove through the foreshadowing clouds,
Amidst the dark grey,
And roaring winds,
I was perhaps,
A bit scared,
For loneliness in the dark,
Is a sight I hadnt wished to see.

The clouds had cleared up,
My sky was once again calm,
My red once again beating;
And my feet once again still.

I was in search of a destination,
I had long since heard of,
But I had never seen the daunting beauty
That captivated every soul,
Leaving them,
Spell bound to its endearing appeal.

Across the valleys,
And the fields of yellow,
From beyond the hills,
Reverberating my red,
I had finally reached my destination.

But the sun had set,
On my Sandy beach;
And the infinitesimal grains,
Slipped away,
From beneath my feet,
Like the illusion of time,
Always fleeting.

Perhaps,
It is the illusion of a captivating destination,
That sets us on a journey,
We would not have otherwise taken,
Only to find,
That we had loved the journey
More than the place,
We had long since longed for.