The Pen And The Sword (I)

What is there to glean from this realm?
What sense and direction is inherent in this plane;
Where the air gets cloggier by the day,
And morals blurrier by the hour;
Where so much is known, but very little is used or understood?
Really, what are we doing,
Sacrificing long-term health for short-term convenience and luxury?
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When I Call You Father

To: Father

If I had the opportunity to choose my own father,
I wouldn’t choose him because of his wealth,
Or because of his looks – not colour, hair, gait, height or weight;
I wouldn’t choose him because of how well read he is, but for his wisdom;
Me calling you ‘father’ is a heavy responsibility I lay at your feet,
Which you take with grace.
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Inspiration

There are many times that I’m lost for words
But there are very few times that I’m lost for words for good reason
Days like today are a good reason
But inspiration comes in many forms:
The virtual slant of the sun
The hues and blues of the sky
The silvery mistiness of the night
The soothing caress of a cool breeze
The rare quietness of the mind
The constant bumble of life
The frustrating thrill of the balancing act
The occasional stab of loss
The gentle touch of a hand
The Divine mystery of the breath that keeps life
But sometimes it’s just the thought of a day such as this
And the mothers who had, kept, and moulded us.
Sometimes I wonder why life can be so cruel,
Yet gives us the gift of mothers.
Sometimes I wonder why the world seems so big,
But the most important people to us are never out of reach.
This is a tribute, my salute
To these bearers of generational inspiration.

#Happy Mothers Day!