The Waiting
As you make your journey through hills and ravines, to the City of Vales, someone paces endlessly for you. 

The pure, unblemished morning of the countryside kisses you. Someone remembers a similar chaste kiss.

The cold slips hands into yours. Someone rubs their hands together impatiently, searching the road.

Your eyes skim over a landscape that is an old friend and yet, a stranger. Someone thinks of the bonds that have entwined over the years.

The forests all seem like the forest of your youth, yet with many thickets unexplored. Strange places beckon with inviting gleams.

You thrill in the adventure, while someone weaves a garb of hopes and dreams,waiting for you to cut across the wilderness.

The roar of the engine winds across a mountain road, shattering the stillness. Someone's ears resound with the silent pounding of a wait.

The sky stretches out before you like a lazy cat. The waiting unwinds before someone else, just as slowly.

You carve your own path through a land of unusual visions, while someone else draws imaginary lines across the map.

The wind sings songs of leafy dreams and the slow, deep sleep of trees. Someone has awoken from their slumber to the prospect of you.
    
The journey melts into hours. Day turns into twilight, but someone keeps you company with every turn of the wheel.

The evening's first stars peep out to watch this tale unfold. The waning moon steps out to act narrator to the story.

And as you reach your unhurried destination, someone waits at the end, with an intensity equal to mine, or perhaps even more.