We find ourselves in our struggle Emerging from our strife into life It seems to me, that we too often juggle The solutions that can be overly rife
It is us who write our own story As we listen beyond that which is auditory To truly hear who we are meant to become As that someone beats its own drum
We often edit if and as we write honestly Though at times, this is not done concisely There is something in life's artistry That breaks through with our pounding integrity
The story of ourselves evolves inside our heads It emerges from our hopes overcoming our dreads From this story, we learn to build ourselves Half-inspired from imagination, but also from our shelves
That hold the books that lead the way Inspired as we are by our passing days Let's make these stories inspiring and engaging Through the gambles that we are always waging
Daring as we do through our own hands Knowing full well these are our lives to command Each finger pointing, points to a different journey Only our hearts and minds decide our destiny
Life is fulfilled by our excitation That goes beyond the rote recitation That too often speaks into silence This, then, is the dullness that does us violence
(c) March 28, 2024 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along