The clarity I seek is regarding how to remain calm
amidst the storms swirling round about me,
how to be of help and live compassionately
towards those in most dire need,
those who may not appreciate or understand
the choices I make each day.
(1,108 words)
I find it funny,
not in a humorous way,
that I have hope.
That I can still have hope.
…I just keep holding on.
The silence is over.
The time has now come,
where no longer fearful,
our voices ring clear.
Those with whom we surround ourselves
tend to define our worth.
Sometimes it is through their words,
and other times by our own comparisons.
Each time we share a bit of ourselves
we give them more power,
for that is what trust is, power.
The power to lift up.
The power to crush.
There is no part of me that belongs to another.
I choose to share at my own discretion.
Are we capable of looking at others
through a lens unfiltered by judgment,
not colored by preconceptions?
Are we capable of unconditional love?
The beauty of a rose,
wrapped tight within the vines,
upon my trellis waiting,
just waiting for her time.
Bursting open, petals stretch
unto the light of day.
Exploding colors all around,
for Spring has come to stay.
I am a work in progress,
unfinished, incomplete.
Each day I grow in knowledge,
most learned here on the street.
Life is serenely complicated.
Some people try to stand out,
and by doing so hope to fit in
with others who do the same.
Me, I never wanted to stand out,
to be different, but I am.
I guess we all are, in our own way,
different that is.