I feel as though those who went before me have left pieces and clues.
They left me a bread crumb trail to success and they set up a scavenger hunt for happiness.
They ran through the untaimed forest before me and tore branches out of my way. They beat the ground with quick and heavy feet to make a road for me to follow.
Those that went before me took water out of the puddles and made it clean for drinking.
They preserved life and remembered that God intrusted them with a gift.
They told stories and invented worlds, little did they know that their wildest dreams would become a reality in my time. They were pioneers and visionaries. They were lovers and fighters.
People of such gusto are rare in these times. I trace the drawings of those who were not stopped by brick walls and angry mobs. For I admire the fact that I get to freely walk through these very same walls untouched and I get to see these very same mobs that killed for game peacefully chatting with one another because of what those before me did.
These Movers took the burdens of others and lit them on fire with compassion and care. The word “impossible” was beaten and left bruised and hurting by The Determined.
They created and they have left the paint brushes out for us.
Revoltuionists pinned a note to a tree for me. It read, “Finish what I’ve started.”
And oh, how I intend to.