Fylgia (The Follower)

They call her the Follower, and yet we follow her. We long for her. Sometimes she seems so far away for we have fled her and do not know the way back home. Then we look out the window with wist and wish for her. Sometimes we do not know it is she we long for. She is out there, calling us back to where we are ; we have fled our true location, and like a lost animal, we wander in the forests, bewildered, thinking she has strayed when we have lost our way. For we are youth, who lose ourselves so easily, and have not learned to trust. O, most loving one, she waits and calls the beacon call back home, that we might hear and let our melancholy and desire guide us back to where she sits. She has been watching all along.