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The Fruits of Our Labors

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Dreams are like grapes, they are often small, easy to attain, and often very sweet and satisfying when finally reached. But, also like grapes, dreams can be left below by a lesser man. Left to fester, wither away, and die in the sun that is life. These are often the dreams that are forgotten, or repeated in later generations by a better being. But what happens if the dream does not turn into a raisin? Well, then it grows. Vines twist and intertwine, gnarly and long around everything they touch; wrapping around everyday life of the dreamer until they become their whole world. But what if they fall to the ground and fester, forgotten in that infamous sun? What happens if the dreamer stumbles across the dream?
Magic happens. They plant the raisins, and grow a stalk, thicker and better than before. And from the ashes of that festered grape shoots forth new life. New dreams grow, new aspirations; ones that are better, by far, than they originally were. So when I say, “Dreams are like grapes,” it is well known that I mean, “Dreams are the goals that bloom forth from the fruits of our labor.”





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