Mystic's Drift

In some beautiful way, it would describe that path,
always flowing downhill. And how before I know it, the scenery's entirely changed,
and knowing nothing except the path.
And the path is forward, always forward,
so seeming-inevitable that we wonder about predestination.
Noting the new surroundings, I wonder, how did I get here?
and can't remember being anywhere else, but dimly, so far passed.
And yet I slid here, so silently, that I myself didn't even notice the shift.
Here I am, a drifted mystic!