ONE DAY
The End.
Sometimes, you never see it coming.
The mission, orchestrated long before a single breath was drawn.
Born to sneak up quietly behind you, taking care, not to be noticed, and before you feel its warm breath on your neck, it whispers loudly in your ear, two, heart stopping words.…… Its Time.
Most of us live assuming time is a given; A ration to be handed out fairly amongst the masses.
As a flock of seagulls stand in a single file line, waiting patiently to be fed by the patrons that have come to see them.
Their glass house shattered abruptly, by the stones cascading in from cloth islands all around.
Is hope wrung dry by our hands of uncertainty?
Can what we don’t know, actually hurt us?
For we watch the sun fall behind the mountains, knowing not where it may come to rest. But on irony we sleep; a self-induced coma. This paralyzing power, authorized by the minds it condemns powerless.
This mere existing, for a few, is not existing at all.
They, must live, and so choose to be aroused by the wonder, within the wondering.
Stopping often, to celebrate the beauty in each moment so graciously laid before them.
For each day brings a new canvas. To either fill, with purposed strokes of life. Or to fear, the potential of its possibilities.
Left blank, the canvas only reads as an invitation to Regret. But, if the value of One Day is believed to be irreplaceable, then every painting whispers in anticipation, of the masterpiece yet awaken within.
