Swirling spinning almost falling...but still grounded.
Struggling to ascend, to climb up hills and hills of muddy dirt and dewy grass
When you reach the peak you exhale, a sigh that is carried away by a gentle tug of wind
You turn--
And see the whole world far far away, below are the hills of grass and mud and beyond that, is too far beyond to make out clearly
maybe buildings, houses, schools, offices? bridges and roads, connecting the small dull boxes and straight roads, all leading to a place. People small like ants walking along to their destination.
Their goal is point b.
...Is it not yours?
sometimes you wonder; "if my goal is not point b, is it point c? or is my goal something not so easily planned"
You turn back around and place the world you climbed out of behind, standing at the peak
of the very first hill
and you breath in the hills rolling beneath your feet, clusters of small forests and foliage breaking up the expanse of green green grass
there is no point b here
you are just floating along with the ebb and flow of the wind and earth,
eager and open to whatever road your mind decides to follow today
Farewell gray cities!
Time to let go of constraints-
Adventure, awaits.
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