“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it. If you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is there and don’t throw it away.”
― Stephen Hawking
When from birth the swaddling of obscurity
Covers my face with the harsh reality of life
How will I discover my soul and carry
the torch of meaningful purpose to my progeny?
Left with only the struggles of faith and doubt
over what my life should be or have been.
Why do I live, why has God given me breath?
Why go at all into the void of the living?
Of what purpose can it be to drag my soul
through a thousands horrors only to be reborn?
Does it matter at all and why
when I breath for the last time?
And then He whispers,
“That you may know me, this is your purpose”
It’s a fact of life that we
become disenchanted by joy without pain
And barely fight to know someone or something
unless extinction threatens to take them or it away
Breathing in and with each rasping dry inhale I’m missing you
It burns down to the hollow of my soul.
Memories they flood in, a confusing mix. I thought I missed just you,
but I miss the many that are a part of me.
Each having a part to play, each having a part in me,
each deserving of my attention.
What will I do with these feelings? I shouldn’t,
long after only you.
I should enjoy the many
that have become a part in my life.
How can I miss only you and leave out the others
who have a part to play?
I must move on, pay my respects, but in the end
I know you’re only a part.
There yet remains a whole to be built from my life,
a whole song, a whole book,
not just a verse, or a chapter.
In this moment, I’ll breath a painful breath that it may give me
a lesson from missing you.
Also published in Broowaha