pressure, outside, inside, right side up, rolling stone, not just one way down the hill, but up the hill, and that first step isn't the hardest anymore, but the steps that follow it, digging the shoulder in, using the legs, and pushing, and hoping at some point, the pushing gets easier, the grade starts leveling, and then the crest, the roll, and away it goes, and it's the threshold, the limit, the apex, before everything changes, breaking that fourth wall, working up to, hard at, trying, struggling, focused energies, and will power, the power of will, of soul, of direction and purpose. a maze, with not just one solution, but many, not just one exit, but many, at the four corners, at various mixes of the points of the compass, all different ways to get out, to get somewhere, but not knowing, turning left then right then left again when just one left could have been sufficient, nay, necessary. walls which corral, which guide, hands and fingertips run alongside, grace and glancing and tracing, knowing by feeling, reassured by their presence, and wondering, wanting to climb up over the wall, to sit on top of the maze, and look out, unbound, to the horizons.