Their path was a twisted root extending outwards and in. An angle of impossible ascent, yet lush with green, grasping for the sun. The perfect shelter for an amazing angle, a dream pursued despite purpose or convenience. A dream pursued in the face of misunderstanding and disbelief, a dream pursued simply because it was a dream. These are the dreams worth pursuing. The ones we can’t even recall where they came from or why they exert such a hold over us. There are mysteries locked within us, and by marching directly towards what we dream, and towards what we fear, we discover long forgotten keys.
The Path Was A Twisted Root