At the end of the week, as I approach Sabbath, I think the voyage is perhaps at an end. But, it is not. The Sabbath serves a time of replenishment, a finding of new wonder in the days to come. I look in as suggested in this poem by Rabindranath Tagore. The path opens in front of me in way I am sure this is in my destiny.
I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,—that the path before me was closed,
that provisions were exhausted
and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue,
new melodies break forth from the heart;
and where the old tracks are lost,
new country is revealed with its wonders.