The Road

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There is never only one thing
left to do to say, we know this,
and yet, we might come to a
time when the roads we have
taken and that are still to come do
not glimmer with the possibility
they once did, or rather, this
light promises itself for another
day, another time. The roads
are not closed, but we find we
have diverged from them, or
have had them wrested from us,
and this is not only happenstance,
or only the choices we’ve made;
these are the conditions of life.
The roads weave through the
remembrances of our bare,
wild and roaming feet; the roads
call to us in the bell towers of
our dreams; they are the webbed
and interlacing tapestries of
our own ability to make sense of
how life is. We do not take
them to their storied endings;
we know better than that. We
hold them close, dot them with
sacred trees and mystical
encounters, and find our way
there. And know that there is no
road we will find together; and
no road we will ever take alone.
 
– TT
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