The Path Before Meaning Poem by Jabil Manandhar

I did not walk
to hunt for meaning,
nor to prove a wonder to the world.
I walked because
something within me moved—
a rhythm older than thought—
and I followed,
to see where my footsteps
would remember their beginning.
Only a few steps beyond my door,
the earth softened beneath my feet.
My heart leaned toward
a path long known to silence,
where peace still listens to itself.
Yet the road whispered of another way,
and I turned—
new in form,
ancient in sorrow,
carrying lives worn thin by time.
Watching what revealed itself
without words,
I arrived, somehow,
at my base camp—
not a place,
but a pause.
Still, everything felt unfinished,
as if the circle had broken—
a companion had fallen,
and the echo of his absence
walked beside me.
Climbing those steps,
a quiet joy rises in my mind,
as though I am being led
to meet him without form.
Familiar faces
appear like signs along the path,
each holding a fragment of the mystery.
I try to listen—
not with the mind,
but with the place
where the journey first began.