When The Path Is Not All That Is Beaten
Please read and enjoy the work of a talented writer.
We have traveled for a long time now. Since we never really learned to speak each other’s languages, it has been a relatively silent trip. Sometimes you take a different form and walk beside me for a bit. Though I can fly, the vast majority of the time I am still grounded. Though I can swerve against the rails, the vast majority of the time I am centered.
The newly sprouted leaves on the tree outside my window are a stark contrast to the bare gray twigs of the winter that has passed. Is it still snowing inside? The rapidly encircling foliage blocks out the sun at times when it’s on my side. The pollen permeating the air is the master teaching us that rapid growth can be damaging, can be harmful, can bring tears to our eyes until the occasional rain. Are rain and tears the same thing? Though…
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