The trouble that begins when the summer ends is simply that the days of the sun are shorter and shorter. What does amaze me after so many of these hot spells that come and go, is that I never tire of them. It continues to mark the ever approaching day of my demise, however as I welcome each new day, they never seems to be without a new challenge or a new opportunity to feel more self esteem than ever before.
My self esteem is dependent on what I think not what others think. In the past I would let the dictation of others scribe on my wall what exactly went on when I read my own mind. The penmanship of those I held in the least regard assigned my self worth when I opened my eyes. It is in my dreams I see the brilliance the shadow people used to occlude. No longer will I be pushed about no matter what footprints another man leaves in my path, because it is always in my shoes they can never walk.
JB -
ReplyDeleteThe grand illusion of man thinking he can press a finger across the streaming grains of sand in life's hourglass, is what every human being hopes to have the power to do. Yet, as we sit behind our keyboards tapping these words, mankind is not the entity that holds the stopwatch.
At that moment of the final heartbeat, we will remember those who changed our lives. We keep them close to our hearts and pray that they realize how much they had an impact on another person.
Probably silly to say, but no man is an island. (And, no woman is blind to the kindness of strangers.) But, then again, meeting someone in the universe of the cyber galaxy might be as potent as an embracing couple hugging on a moonlit bridge at midnight. Or, catching a home run ball hit by a Yankee or Met.
JB, that screaming pen can orchestrate a symphony. May the dictation of ink continue to flow forth.
- SHB
:)
(A Kinder Shade Of Blue Skates Across The Sky)