Growing, reaching, exploring anything I can.
Always moving higher, never settling.
They grow and spread to wherever is possible. Yet they get tangled. Many branches weave in and out, getting stuck twisting within each other, ceasing to reach and grow higher. When that happens they make intricate webs and knots, making each vine different.
I think that is the beauty in vines. They are imperfect. They don't have a designated path, they spread wherever they please and each one follows a different path.
Lately, but if I'm being honest, usually is a better word, I seek definite answers and question if the path I am on is perfect. I reach out for things to hold, wanting to know exactly where they will take me. I don't want to do that anymore. I want to reach out into the unknown, knowing things might get tangled. Just as that is the beauty in vines, that is the beauty in life. Every path has its own intricacies and moments that shape the way it grows. Beautiful things are not supposed to be perfect or look exactly the same as everything else. I am on my own path, and I don't always know where it will take me, but I will have faith in the uncertainty. Appreciate the knots and tangles, and celebrate the growth.
Always reaching higher, never settling, I will live like a vine.