wanderings of a soul

As words well up craving to surface
As silence is about to yield
As the flow irrevocably rises
As I bring myself to feel
It is always good
To acknowledge whatever is out there
To accept adversity as the essence of life's fair
True it bruises the soul
Yet from those very wounds
The spirit flutters its wings and soars
Above grudges (never did carry them, they burden my flight)
Above sorrow, for it is none but masked joy says the poet
It rises on-high
To see dancing sun rays and mischievous smiles
Crystal laughter and genuine joy
Authentic affection, relentless care
These precious treasures are all I'll bear
Upon the virtuality of this white page
My silence finally took the stage
Pouring out its very being
To an audience unseeing

time to pick up that pen again
true! it's not really a pen, nor can it be picked-up for the matter
anyhow ...
call for a "mise-au-point"
starry-eyes? still
disappointments? numerous
dreams? raging
ambitions? (see dreams)
resilience? oh yes
forbearance? time to reduce that
expectations from others? time to increase those
expectations for self? high-time to acknowledge duly earned credits!
revolts? an endless list, against letting-go, against mediocrity, against corruption, against all that which won't surface..
resolutions? upcoming I feel

small exhale for a reprise, à bientôt!   Perhaps ...