Posts Tagged ‘courage’

We have to spend our whole life getting up

each morning and see the many suns

rising courageous from the horizon.

A simple life- who knows when to retire

at night time and hug long-time companions

called pillows and dreaming dreams.


There are episodes here, which send ripples

into our seemingly monotonous existence

everyday. And we have to wage battles

with boredom and her sisters- called mediocrity

and irrelevance. But not all were lost.

Somebody needs to learn how to befriend them.


Some may think that something was lacking,

but perhaps in the company of silence we find

orbs of thoughts in the usual grind of days

like the fowls of the air having simple cares.

Season after season. Day after day. Aged

but content to the simple things that matter.


The small country talks over the weather

and life in the farm begins with asking folks

how the young are doing these days at school.

The familiar warmth of seeing old friends at a gathering.

The joy of witnessing someone else’s milestones.


The farewells and well wishes when someone

is leaving our own little places to discover

the bigness of things. There goes a little prayer

and a hope that nothing is wrong when one decides

to stay and carry on doing their tasks each day.


We might spend our whole life thinking it’s good after all, 

though it has never been easy and there are rough times.


But it will never stop us believing that peace within

is the only dwelling place, our enduring shelter

when the day comes that we will never be able

to witness the sun and it has forgotten to rise.


In the darkness, we hope our soul in its own little spaces

can see the moon and stars light up the evening sky.

While the wind whispers- all is well, we’ll be calm as the sea.

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Empty handed you go into spaces

searching for  souls like collisions

of grey shapes stumbling down

into staircases heading for exit.


Pass this way. They are the reflections

of glassy things you see staring back

at you- images of the sun battling

against the rogue winds. Then peace


will come knocking at your door

peddling its sepia stained photographs

and pushing nostalgic emotions

tethered to your distant past.


You will not allow it. You will pretend

as if you’ve come a long way from there

and someone has to understand

that they need to break down


the concept of the old life you are not

now. Though they won’t applaud changes

and alone you have to float like a river

where myriad of dreams are waiting


to become realities and rarities.

You have to be lighter than feather.

You should embrace memories

like the colors of the rainbow.


Unmindful and undeterred by fear

gripping like empty boxes and chains

to the blank spaces waiting to be filled

with courage to break through walls.

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My child, grow as you would hope to be.


I am here, washing the dirty linen

and the soiled clothes thinking of you.

Who can tell? That the world in the future,

its circumstances be better. But I pray

that you may have the strength to face

each day with courage and dignity-

of choosing what is true and honest.

Defending what is right over wrong,

uncompromising to the virtues that I

am going to teach you. Please listen.


I am not the best and I am not perfect.


And I dream for you my child, a life anew.

Realizing the chance to fulfill the purposes

destined for you. Keeping steer of the pitfalls

I have done. Make a difference of your own.

Striving the very best that you can.

Standing up for what you believe in.

Though you may fall, there will always be

a chance to pick yourself up, to stand again.


Never quit. Never fear. God be with you.


And I hope you learn from my mistakes.

The misjudgment I did when I was

once a child like you. Growing up too.

Through my adulthood, deciding to love

another being and brought you along

amidst the pain, the hurt and the turmoil.

May it be- your life like these soap suds

clearing away the dirty traces of my past,

vanishing all the fears that I had before.


Starting the days wearing clean clothes.

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Somebody has told me how in his hospital bed, he is thinking of what will happen with the remaining minutes of his life.  His doctors had already given up hope and they already inform his wife that he got 30 minutes to live more.  Everyone in the room have already accepted the idea of death anytime soon. 

But the man on that deathbed, with his mind still intact, lying there mustering all his courage and earnestly hoping for another day. For another time. His heartbeat stopped, but the doctors still gave that 30 minutes for his heart to be revived.

Twenty nine minutes and the apparatus indicated life. With lines signaling another gruelling survival, cheating death.  The man in his afterthought, after that episode of heart attack, trace back how he spent his time on earth.  Then in his great resolve, decided that the remaining minutes of his life will be filled with happiness and love.

He decided to be laid back and enjoy more of life. To see  what’s on the other side, tucked away from his old busy life. A life then that is so competitive and full of time spent in work. But now, he travelled for some soul searching and talk with his heart’s content to countless strangers, who in one way or the other share the same longing to live their life to the fullest. And there he experience the joy of living. The joy of simply making the most out of every situation. The joy of actually connecting and not isolating.

He told me that we are the same. He told me, that even in my younger life, I ought to spend some extra time exploring life.  It is like him saying that life is too short to waste in hurting others or hurting ourselves.

I look past beyond this man.  And I can’t believe that here is somebody who seems to have been to many places will tell me how sorry he was.  That he forgotten to feed his soul of things that matters most. He almost got it all and what better could he ask for.  And true, money can’t buy all the true happiness that will satisfy you as a simple human being.

And after our conversation, I began to think.  I am thinking if I had been a good steward of my time here on earth.  Am I that conscious not to waste any more the time that is so short for destroying or building it? I am thinking that if I have been given the same prognosis, what will I have to do with 30 minutes? Maybe I will be the same man on his deathbed regretting if I could only turn back the time. 

Regretting that I should have been more forgiving.  Less of being a perfectionist. That I should have been more compassionate and loving.  That I should have been more open and more relaxed. Since there is no turning back and each day we endeavor on something, in due time so shall we reap the consequences.

30 minutes is all it takes for the man to re-assess the value of his life and recollect the things that matters most.  30 minutes on the treshold of another life and the scythe of death. 30 minutes to stop and start living one more day, inspiringly.

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