When you look at the world, what do you see? A world spiraling through darkness? Jagged rings of unclimbable mountains? An immutable reality? So many people succumb to those hills that conceal the horizon that they forget there are lands past seeing, experiences waiting for being, an endless expanse of possibilities.

We chain ourselves with links of responsibility, carry the burden of expectations, and allow ourselves to succumb to the opiate fugue of habit that the spark of possibility within us dims and we day by day surrender more to the clay we are made of gradually hardening into monuments of the mundane and mediocre.

The last few months I’ve been lost in this valley. It is dark and empty, the walls reaching so high the sky is but a faint ribbon splitting the heights. The way out seems so far. It would be so easy to just lay down; drown in shadows. Sleep until I amdust again.

But dreams,dreams of what once we’re, what could be; that blessing of the ether that allows themolding of reality and the changing of fate. Dreams whisper to me stirring still air. They promise more than gray obstacles and eventual decay. They promise the heavens and eternity. They swear that crack above shall spread. Against pain and doubt, through dark and fear, I rise and stumble, press on blindly until, finally, all existence spills over me. The expanse, glittering with the memories of past heroes and poets. Standing in the presence of everlasting, I offer my essence in word and action and all changes. The sun does rise. The tide crashes. The world turns.

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