Climbing, climbing, climbing vines that grow so high.They cover the door to the secret place inside. Looking for a passageway, so I can walk on in. There is no key to this door, for everything is just based on a matter of time. Bare feet that run across the cool earth. The place that they run to, is a place untold. Look beyond where the vines have grown. Where there are still story's untold, and roads that haven't been roamed. Never forget that there's a key hole to every sungrove which is nothing but light that shines in it's unfolded fold.