At the end of the drive,
I stop and turn around,
One last glance at the journey -
An adventure so profound.

A flash of memories fill my mind,
Of the nature that had once surrounded me,
The people and the places, and the conflicts
That gave me the opportunity to see what lay beyond me.

There are the lessons learned,
There are the pictures I photographed.
There are the journal pages I wrote.
All which will go with me like a souvenir.

For a moment, my heart takes a dive,
Like the sun that dips into the horizon at the end of a day.
But then, a bird passes by,
Light as a feather - a hope of the future.

Like the end of a journal entry, a special farewell,
I kneel to the ground, and put out my hand.
My fingers touch the sandy path,
There I write my first name and then my last -
A writer’s closure to the past.