Skies often seem to overwhelm us, with their darkness, with their vastness, with their capacity to surround us from all directions. But they cannot. For it is a certainty, that they will make way for the sun, which will illuminate all that is intrinsically gold. The waiting is long, the messages discomforting, the looks disconcerting. Persons, who should have kept silent, will speak. Those that should have shouted, may be curiously silent. But the real persons will be closer, richer, more resilient and ultimately triumphant and lustrous like never before.
4 comments:
... and so overwhelming too.
the sun makes the sky even more beautiful,more intimidating as well....
such is the way of the world that optimism cannot survive without a certain degree of cynicism as well...
well written.
It is nearing 4 am, and I am still awake. The storm raging within has translated itself into a tangible entity outside my window but all I can think of is how pathetic my fallacies have been. The sky isn’t crying for me, the sky is slipping away, away into a darkness that taught me that wistfulness is passé. The mango was eaten yesterday, and the pickle made last year has developed into what you may call Fungal Delights.
Why pickle in the first place? Why are the best things in life-like sake, wine, yogurt, and bread- fermented? Maybe bread isn’t, but don’t interrupt. Too long have we been interrupted, too long have we not realized that the snot is not a disease, it’s a symptom of a malaise that’s greener and murkier than one can envisage.
I thought I'd let people know that you can provide an answer, my dearest poet-prophet, my best friend.
Optimism is liberating.
Like searching for breaths inside your coffin.
:)
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