Transition

It is A part of life.
Apart from life, I strolled through the forest picking at leaves I thought were ready to fall into my hands. They were not ready for me. I watched as others on the promenade picked the exact leaves of their wanting. Some trees bore fruit plenty with seed. They quietly moved onto their carved out path. I kept picking- rip, pull. I thought if I could just get out of this rut, I would clutch the light. The dusk dimmed my vision, and I no longer could see my brother or sister near by. I knelt, the cold soil pressed on my knees. A genuflection in reflection on my past. But up ahead, I saw the stone. It was gently placed on my path, a cornerstone. It had always been there, but I ignored it until now. Slate and grey with age, it proffered hope. I rose, picked up my feet and ran to it. And as I removed the leaves on the vine wrapped around it, I knew that I need not try to pick a future that was already planned. “Trust me,” I heard the stone whisper. I leapt, faithfully. And in front of me I saw my portion, my purpose had materialized in the field..behind me I left my consuming fear. Using an olive branch, I scribbled and wiped away the line that was drawn and sat in the peace before me as I basked in the promise of tomorrow.

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