I am afraid I do not know myself.
Forever have I been lost in the
isolates of my solace, searching
for understanding, but water
it seems doesn't run in deserts.
I have no promises to make,
for the wind,it seems, is harsh
on the sands, wearing it to its
rocky bone and still, the clouds
remain unmerciful, white on blue.
Nature is what it is, immutable
is its purpose, understanding is
only present in not questioning.
So it seems I shall remain a
nomad, just my pen and paper
shelter me from my thoughts,
and wait out my existence here,
answers might flow from within.
Current Mood: Triumphant
Current Music: none
touching, but do we really know who we are? Isn't it that sometimes we surprise even ourselves? like by enduring beyond what has been thought of as possible, faith even when wounded, crossing boundaries at certain times we never thought we would be able to cross, finding strength when we thought all our resources were depleted, but somehow we still manage to go on? stuff like that, and by the waym you wouldn't believe how much water can actually be found in the desert, I even know of a waterfall in the middle of nowhere in a desert, seriously it does exist! And hope you keep the pen and paper with you always :D
Thank you. That made me feel better somehow, made a little paradigm shift possible. This is why I love this blog.