It is difficult to know the answer...
For me, even the questions are elusive. When in high school I would go to British Columbia to find summer work ... always in the mountains. There is a grandeur to the mountain wilderness that cannot be denied. Accustomed to other people being near enough to speak to, at most a short walk away, it is overwhelming to be found among the Rocky Mountains ... they are never-ending ... there is no final destination in the wilderness .... it just goes on and on.
It seems that in life, even though it soon becomes apparent that one's ultimate goals are not obtainable – for they seem ever in a state of flux and changing – even so we are compelled to wander through the years allotted to us. So we must each find reason for our journey. It is not that I am sure of my reason; but, if some have the courage to by chance be right then I must also have the courage to by chance be wrong.
Unremittent
I see myself tomorrow...drifting snow
From off the stone. No sun against the fir
To warm me now; for I am old...
And have not changed. My loins still stir;
Though never, be it never, told...
It matters to me where the body lies
This “pot of clay” I've carried from the Spring
Will gather drifting snow from mountain skies
Forever soon. Where last it lays will bring....
The bones that would not bend now lay
But dust. The echoes of an eagle's scream
Haunt twilight's peace.... The search by day
Concludes with night.... a dream.