Legs carry on through ancient trails
Traveled by those who walked before knowing why

Vagabonds and explorers
Truth seekers, stripping thought down to its frame

Head lowered, step after step
The same question turning
Until only what matters remains

Yards turn to miles
Miles wear the noise away
And somewhere in the quiet
Truth steps forward

Not as an answer spoken loudly
But as something uncovered slowly
Like stone beneath shifting soil

The mind, once crowded, begins to thin
Stories lose their urgency
Worries fall behind without ceremony

There is no arrival, only unfolding
No sudden clarity, only subtraction
Until even the question grows quiet

And in that quiet
you are no longer chasing truth
you are walking beside it