On a Romanian Hillside

The breeze talks to me, telling me the story of time and my questions are carried with it. What does the tree reach for? What are the flowers trying to prove as they blossom into beauty? What is the starving dog’s purpose here? Surely not to just consume and rot! They say that everything has a reason, a cause, a purpose. But I cannot grasp the purpose of life and freedom. The pursuit of one’s destiny. And as I sit on this hill of molded life, I stare at a church in the distance. Where will my life take me, and what must my actions do to make it happen? I can only sit and wonder as the starving dog continues to walk the empty street, as the flowers persist to prove something, and the trees still lengthen themselves as they reach for the heavens in silence. But the breeze…the breeze follows me and with every new question I ask, another takes its place in my mind until it is time to travel on its fast-moving current.