The reality of who we all are-1989 adjusted 19.4.2013

the runner
©copyright2013owpp

The reality of who we all are
————————————

Weary is the runner
Who tried it all.
Nothing that can wrench
A smile from her heart
Has she found

Look and search some more
To run away from
The confinement of her reign.
Spent to the bone
Society lifting her up to hegemony (1)

Weary is she, the runner
Who is a slave to her name
Starting off out of ardor
Never for the claim.
Loosing amity along the track

Collecting honorariums
Thrown at her as a redress
To satisfy her hunger
For fusion and empathy
What is given to the many

Oh! She does find it…
Between two laps of breath
Falling into the trap of poise
The opulence of comfort
The warmth of Kith & Kin

Only to be snatched back
To the constant drill.
Why me, does she ask
Were my choices a delusion
The erratum of my own doing (2)

Speculating she is the only
Stooge life has nominated
The quarry that has stumbled
On a boulder that was waft
On the path of earth

She vows to sleep on these
Wise discoveries with hope
Next day would bring
More reflection and ease
To the happy runner

She wants so much to embody
Still unaware of the cheers
And encouragement of peers
That have been forged by
That same mass hurled

At what became their biography
The journal of their gumption (3)
The teachings available on
The benches of what is solid
The reality of who we all are…

A runner.
———–

(1)
he•gem•o•ny
n. pl. he•gem•o•nies
The predominant influence, as of a state, region, or group, over another or others.

(2)
er•ra•tum
n. pl. er•ra•ta
An error in printing or writing, especially such an error noted in a list of corrections and bound into a book.
________________________________________
[Latin err tum, from neuter past participle of err re, to stray; see ers- in Indo-European roots.]

(3)
gump•tion
n. Informal
1. Boldness of enterprise; initiative or aggressiveness.
2. Guts; spunk.
3. Common sense.

Advertisement

Families… April 2010

©copyright2013owpp

Families…
———

Families are intricate unities that assemble fragments of love, which they could easily discard if ego steps in.
Usually in a situation fabricated by their own imagination.
Families weave their own history, gluing it together with the substance called love hoping it will withstand the hazards of time.
Some families withhold the pressures of life by staying even closer. Practicing compassion, tolerance and love as a shining example for the world to witness.
Interacting with noble qualities as, finesse, integrity, virtue, righteousness, purity and above all a desire for true cohabitation.
They let their ego aside, seek and invite truth in, practicing patience and understanding in situations, others would have long buckled under.

Bursting as an olive seed, under the weight of a millstone. Grinding to its last drop.
How many of these “torches” illuminate our planet?
I wonder. Are they one percent? If they are, they should be standing high and proud. As the lighter of an Olympic flame.
Given a medal.
Instead, they are kept in the quiet. They tiptoe in the labyrinths of life and succeed to find a way out of this maze and convert it to beautiful alleys.
Some of them, growing an orchard on their way, with the promises of sweetness as a perquisite for having played a role in the grandeur of a king’s quarters.
Their children’s devotion, are their pride and badges. They take no heed in titles or honors.
They cherish the warmth of past memories and amuse themselves at keeping them alive by recalling them to their grandchildren, on long winter nights, a twinkle in their eyes, a spark in their heart and a smile on their lips.
Then, go on, feeding, on their children’s silent recognition, translated by small tokens. A gesture, a look, a hug and most of all, loving respect.
Are we aware of the importance of our each and every move?
As situations reveal themselves before our eyes, we are given a mind and heart to consult. The gift of introspection.
Do we use them wisely?
We have the freedom and dignity of choice. We could make an everlasting impression for generations to come. Leave our “trade mark“.
Is that not worth its weight in gold? Should it not give us a rush to strive toward that goal?
We could give up our self-made miseries and feed the younger generation with tender care.

Behave with consistency and rationality in order to provide them with the much needed security and balance in their lives so, as to prepare them on THEIR journey and pack their suitcases for the long road, with, stability, strength and joy. All vital tools in their jobs to shape a few generations to come.

And so it goes…

Building a non-ending chain of character, beauty and light.
In the hope, it will brighten the world and eradicate any dark shades left by the person…

Who thought he had no choice.