The Journey
A woman is alone in the forest, with no one but the wind to accompany her on her way.
“Why do you keep going?” the wind asks the woman. “Why do you keep pushing through, even when it seems that there is no point?”
“Because I am like the lotus,” the woman answers the wind. “Even when everything around me appears to be lost, to be covered in the decay and disease of desire and drama, I know that something good will emerge from the thick mud of it all. I know that I will emerge, bright and beautiful like the lotus, from all that has passed before.”
“Why do you keep going?” the wind asks the woman. “Why do you keep pushing through, even when it seems that there is no point?”
“Because I am like the lotus,” the woman answers the wind. “Even when everything around me appears to be lost, to be covered in the decay and disease of desire and drama, I know that something good will emerge from the thick mud of it all. I know that I will emerge, bright and beautiful like the lotus, from all that has passed before.”
The wind follows the woman, as she continues on her way.
“Why do you keep going?” the wind asks again. “Why do your feet keep moving across the Earth’s surface, even when you feel so tired you might collapse?”
“Because I have no choice,” the woman says, as her feet lightly tread on the forest path. “I’m always looking forward, not dwelling in the past. I cannot change what was, I can only change what will be.”
“Why do you keep going?” the wind asks again. “Why do your feet keep moving across the Earth’s surface, even when you feel so tired you might collapse?”
“Because I have no choice,” the woman says, as her feet lightly tread on the forest path. “I’m always looking forward, not dwelling in the past. I cannot change what was, I can only change what will be.”
“Why do you keep going? Even when the way is shrouded from sight, and all you can do is try to find your way by touch, on your hands and knees?”
“Because I know it’s only me,” the woman answers the wind, her body moving effortlessly on the misty path, though she cannot see a thing. “I know that if I try, I can let myself truly see.”
“Because I know it’s only me,” the woman answers the wind, her body moving effortlessly on the misty path, though she cannot see a thing. “I know that if I try, I can let myself truly see.”
#Unreal #Photo #Prose #Nature #Photography #PhotoTale
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