It was lit long ago. When first he left.

"It's my purpose. I must go. You'll understand someday."

And the lamp was lit as he walked away.

Toil passed and joys passed. Life happened. The world was itself.

Triumphant or downtrodden. Winning or losing. The light was always lit.

Many meetings, many names. Many sorrows, many shames. But remembrance held him true. The light was lit.

Until finally he forgot most of the pain and regret and accepted the wisdom he'd learned.

Opened his gift. The right of return. One of the lucky few for whom the light stayed lit.