Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

I once heard a song about a boy who didn't know his place in the world. In my mind, I heard that boy sing the vocals, I clearly heard his voice ringing in my head. Every word belonged to him.

He sang of wonders and flowers along the path, of rocks and cliffs on which the flowers bloomed so brightly the light reflected off of them. His voice was heavy with neglect and despise for everything he knew his path would cross.

He could not bare the weight on his shoulders, he did not see any end to the path he was on. And with every step he took he grew more reluctant to take the next. How ever could he go on with nothing but weight and doubt?

Then the chorus was swept in. Nothing ever sounded so open and so free. The boys voice was taken by anticipation of things to learn, curiosity as to where his path might take him and the confidence that whatever direction he chose would be a right one.
He determined to look forward as well as backward, he decided to take in all he could and to accept the boundless freedom of any actions he might take in the future.

His tenor was unbroken.

I will strife to be that boy. I will surely fail to become what he has since been. But if I try, my own path might at least partially be a parallel one to his.