the seeds, the trees

"But once in a while there's a great dynamite-burst of flying glass and brick and splinters through the front wall and somebody stalks over the rubble, seizes me by the throat and gently says, 'I will not let you go until you set me, in words, on paper.'" – Richard Bach

Tag: walking a path

May 22, 2015

All the different ends

I’m walking on this path, the first path I found when I woke up that day.

As I’m walking I pass many other paths, some I can peer down and see to the end and their ends are beautiful, blue gold in a breezy light.

Others are twisted and dark and I can’t make out their ends.

So I walk my path, the one I found when I woke up, too afraid and hopeful to veer off.

Eventually my path ends, and I stand in the desert.