Jul 26, 2020
But to Thrive
It's not enough just to be alive.
A t the end of this day I wonder, how will I be tomorrow, as when in that moment the faceless frames of fear have put upon me hands of steel, and threaten my will of mornings I’m never longing for, as if freeze-framed in a moment forever cast unchanged.
As the welded bolts seize and reduce will to defeat, and cease the movement to the slightest of replete, yet in my weakness hoping time will reveal secrets, hushed in whispers faintly heard, that give me rhyme and reason to be spared the undeserved, and to pull me from the creases I slip silently through each day, only then knowing, if ever there to be another way.
At the start of each morning, though it comes without warning and arrives in spite of me, I lie in bed unwilling to thrash the indolence that I feed upon each day, yet in that very moment the remnants of dreams seap from ghostly corners in a misty state of mind, and from those tangled dreams, but when word had come about, and come about it did with amorously willing splendor that I too should come about, that I too should seize that wonder, that the word that came was hope, and within that word knowing I shall see another day, and to see it to an end that started my worried wonder, as hope is the grandest word upon which to pray.
This world has much to offer, and often much to lose. But knowing only this as my final wish for all, is to not just live, but truly thrive within each day.
Circular Words ©AraN Outer Logo by Author
Inner Image by fliegenwulf / shutterstock.com
