I find myself walking

The following are a few brief words to narrate a dream.

It’s dark and I find myself walking, the road is dusty, and it’s never seen bitumen. The road is grey path in a dark landscape. The sky is shrouded in cloud and only the dimly filtered light of a fading moon lights my way.
I remember rising early as I do normally, breaking my nights fast and setting out to walk. Walking with a purpose only dimly viewed. It’s not clear but it burns bright in my mind.
My feet hurt, my body’s way of asking, why am I walking? Where am I going?
The road is gravel and dust, long corrugated with mounds of dust lining the long graded gutter. Low and dry scrub stretch away, occasionally dotted with the silhouette of a low tree. Dry grass and clay pans, silence to the dim horizon. The air is neither warm nor cool but stirring slowly with a gentle predawn breeze. I don’t know where I am, only that I am my journeys path. I walk slowly on, my pain melts into the dust.
Before another road crosses my path. A dim sign swings in the breeze. Its direction long bleached by the sun and the elements. It offers no direction, no guidance. I am lost to the direction I should take, confused by the seemingly identical choices, my path is only one of the ways. There is no help on this road. I am confused.
Then I become aware of a presence beside me. Darkly cloaked and blending into the darkness. Was he there when I came to this crossroad? Does he follow me? Do I follow him? Who is he?
He speaks, and I know him. Like me he has no name only a purpose. Mine is as a Journeyman, his is as a guide. I speak with him every day. People often call him Death, but he is only its guide. He holds no fear for me and knows it, for when the time is right I will follow without fear, curious to continue my journey.
As he speaks the clouds begin to thin, and the stars begin to show though the darkness. The Crux shows clearly and I have a way. Turning, I can see the constellation of the Emu – dark amount the stars. A dim red glow forms on the horizon and I can hear a Kookaburra announcing a new day. My friend waves and slowly walks away and I turn into the rising Sun and continue my journey.
As the horizon glows I can see Burra the eastern grey grazing the dew covered morning grass. She raises her head to acknowledge my journey. All is well with the world and I have direction. Where my journey ends I don’t know – I am a journeyman not a destination.