She is given everything. A map for her journey. A guide to clear the road ahead. A sun has never known a cloud. Yet, the hills are always mountains. The warmth is sweltering.
She has crossed many on her way. Some at which she marvels, for they know the sunrise and the shore. A carriage carries what they have collected; their skin still glows. She stops in her tracks to watch them pass until they disappear. But most travelers she fears, for they know the rain and the edge of the mountainside. This traveler always walks alone. He has never known which way to go. She stops for him too, to let him follow her.
But he seldom stays for long. He always parts when they meet the river. She watches it churn and run over the rocks with strength. She is fearful of it. She knows she must cross it to continue. So she sits and allows the waters up to her knees. The traveler enters the river. He gasps for air. But he returns to land, on the other side. She remains on the banks, fearful of the river.
And as the traveler moves on, he hopes that one day she finds the will to cross the rivers ahead of her. For he saw her path, and it is so green. He hopes one day she realizes how smooth her feet really are.