The Secret Winter (Cont'd)
No title 2
Hope is nothing to be ashamed of. I dreamed a dream of silence, last night and every night.
Swirling images of gold-flecked winters blur past me in a sea of warm memory. Having your hopes dashed but once does not validate the total renunciation of the enterprise itself. Indeed, it is an enterprise, and most small businesses fail. It is a bitter statistic, but one that we must not allow to daunt us, lest we be robbed of one of life's last untouched sacristies.
In a dark place now, as I sit and try to recall that dream of silence, I am once more foiled in my efforts. If only we had more control of our somnambulant alter egos. How wonderful would it be to dally overlong in a dream once in a while--to not let such fleeting moments of bliss slip through our fingers like vanishing silk. But there is hardly time for "if's" and wishes in this place we call earth. Time is a heavy yoke that we all must bear.
With each new meeting of old acquaintances we see that it's abrasive hands have been at work. People grow more tired, the luster leaks from their eyes. Ambitions burn down, and resignation and contentment arrive to scoop up the ashes. Yet, we must learn to overcome the tell-tale signs of age and disenchantment. They are but devilish signage to a dark well of self-loathing and regret.
Age brings us much that we must be thankful for. It gives us perspective, above all. To look back on things past: it is one of the great gifts we have. We may cringe, we may cry, but we may also rejoice in some happy times that can never be taken away from us. Past loves give us reassurance that others have needed us--that others will need us again. We must learn to take our memories and shake them in a sieve. Let the good separate from the bad, that we may relish those halcyon moments. They are the agents of hope. Let them infiltrate and re-program.
One cannot take the passage of time for granted. Once there was a starting line, now there can only be forward motion. Take your loved ones by the hands and stay in your lane. All trappings are mere passing fads. Looks and behaviors change with the generations, but I believe the essences of people remain the same.
Hope is a faith at whose temple every being is welcome. There are no restrictions, there are no judgments. In times of despair, we pray. Have faith and try. Try because trying is beautiful, and there can never be too much beauty in this world.
S
Hope is nothing to be ashamed of. I dreamed a dream of silence, last night and every night.
Swirling images of gold-flecked winters blur past me in a sea of warm memory. Having your hopes dashed but once does not validate the total renunciation of the enterprise itself. Indeed, it is an enterprise, and most small businesses fail. It is a bitter statistic, but one that we must not allow to daunt us, lest we be robbed of one of life's last untouched sacristies.
In a dark place now, as I sit and try to recall that dream of silence, I am once more foiled in my efforts. If only we had more control of our somnambulant alter egos. How wonderful would it be to dally overlong in a dream once in a while--to not let such fleeting moments of bliss slip through our fingers like vanishing silk. But there is hardly time for "if's" and wishes in this place we call earth. Time is a heavy yoke that we all must bear.
With each new meeting of old acquaintances we see that it's abrasive hands have been at work. People grow more tired, the luster leaks from their eyes. Ambitions burn down, and resignation and contentment arrive to scoop up the ashes. Yet, we must learn to overcome the tell-tale signs of age and disenchantment. They are but devilish signage to a dark well of self-loathing and regret.
Age brings us much that we must be thankful for. It gives us perspective, above all. To look back on things past: it is one of the great gifts we have. We may cringe, we may cry, but we may also rejoice in some happy times that can never be taken away from us. Past loves give us reassurance that others have needed us--that others will need us again. We must learn to take our memories and shake them in a sieve. Let the good separate from the bad, that we may relish those halcyon moments. They are the agents of hope. Let them infiltrate and re-program.
One cannot take the passage of time for granted. Once there was a starting line, now there can only be forward motion. Take your loved ones by the hands and stay in your lane. All trappings are mere passing fads. Looks and behaviors change with the generations, but I believe the essences of people remain the same.
Hope is a faith at whose temple every being is welcome. There are no restrictions, there are no judgments. In times of despair, we pray. Have faith and try. Try because trying is beautiful, and there can never be too much beauty in this world.
S
posted by Lord Horatio at 7:37 PM
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