Longest Way Round

The journey takes longer than the maps promised, but at the final destination, it still smells like home. Along the way - a textbook of pine cones and rain: first darkness, then your own sparks, then the grapevine suddenly bestows berries, as if that's how it was always meant to be. Mistakes work as a courier service here - they bring the right answers with a delay and without apologies. The heart takes a beating, but the bruises fade with the rhythm, and warmth begins to break thru again. Music is like shedding your skin on the road: it removes the old skin, gently returns what was lost, and whispers - you didn't go in circles in vain. In the end, it's simple emotional math: "wrong" turned out to be the path to "right," and the longest way unexpectedly became the shortest way to oneself.