There aren't always a multitude of paths, but often. And at these crossroads, an easier road and the harder options. The easier road isn't always better, nor the harder always worthy of the journey. But there the easy sits, parallel to the spiky pit, and the rivers are bluer, the sky clearer, the grass greener on that rise, while through these ruts I claw.
And it's beautiful for the summit, splendid for the crawl, but what does the other side look like? In those twinning times, where I dream I stole to the other side, I wonder if I was strong enough, or was there joy enough like this life?
What if I'd picked the harder trails? I could have chosen any life, and this I took in stride.
And even happier than can be, I'm stuck with wondering who else I could have been. How much better can I be?
How could you possibly be any better.
ReplyDeleteI'm grateful you're on the path with me! :-*