There is no map for quest of love. For living by truth. Only paths, only roads and anonymous  travellers meeting at cross roads, sharing a meal, holding hands, watching the sunrise.

They are no promise in life, life is the promise. 

Cross roads are full of mysterious timelines, events and glorified choices.

We may find a piano player on her path to fame, washing floors before dance begins, uncertain of her own finding, unknown to her inner treasure, waiting years in illusion of safety between walls of mind while her fingers craving for music of her heart.

We may find a philosopher and writer on his path to leading, writing weather news and comic books, exhausted of lifetime duty to provide for others, while the ink of his heart burns to flow on white papers of adventure of being free and courageous. 

Cross roads are meeting places of potentials, kindness, mystery and significant moments of choices.

They are Birth and Dead of many thoughts, emotions, memories.

Cross roads are human’s destiny to fall into being. To meet love.

Get slow and treasure the sweet tastes of familiar as the next choice opens up a new road, new gate and discovery.

I passed many cross roads, my bag pack got lighter and lighter and my heart full of love and chanted melody of gratefulness. I saw many travellers, some built houses over the crossing roads and prisoner of their fear to continue and let life waves touch them. They are bored, alone, exhausted and fearful to meet their own eyes and yet in front of them,  roads are still open to be taken, to be discovered and gifts to be shared. 

I saw few travellers, smiling into every moment and giving away their belonging with joy and gracious. They sit with oceans and seagulls having a bite on a juicy melon.

They know the colors of sunset and love to flirt with moon and shades of their dreams.

They are travellers from beyond. They learn all the roads, they pass all crossing. They know life and the mystery of silence. They become the promise keepers of our lands, of our planet.

Cross roads are threshold of  hopes to meet our  humanity and choose to become God.
Serena Seraphim