I hunt for words, I search threw my mind, I see a child standing there, that child is me. Tears fill his eyes. I walk up and ask, why do you cry? Donít you see the bright future that sits out in front of you. I canít see the sun for the pouring rain. The storms you must whether, inside each storm, at the eye is wisdom and with wisdom comes pain, the day will come when all the tears will be washed away, only the wisdom remains. Quoting: chipg 24358117
This is my promises to you, I heard him say. So I put my hope inside my pocket and push into the eyes of every storm. What I have found there is profound truth. The line no longer blurred by the confusions. The pay day sits just out of sight. A child torn by all the words, all the places found in between here and there. A man looks back and see the years as a tool, each step, each day, I ask new questions. How can I explain it all makes perfect sense now. No tear fell out of place, no smile a day early. His perfect timing. No stone unturned, no question unanswered. Everything mattered, every breath had itís place.
Love and what it means and stands for. I was busy killing self so I could truly live. It sure didnít look that way. Each morning as I got up. I wanted to be happy and tried very hard to put happiness in itís place as if I was painting a picture. The colors never fit, so I kept on changing each color, the colors being people. They refused to be who I needed. So I found loneness over and over again and blamed it on all the wrong colors. This is madness I screamed, a place only to drive you mad full of only hurt and pain. In my loneness I ask more questions and began to paint again. Day after day, new colors, new places. My colors was never the problem, itís the others who wont fit. I kept trying vainly to change them all.
The day came, I threw my paint brush down. Iím to tired to go on painting, itís just not worth it. I pick up a full gallon of white. I threw it against the wall, I will paint no more. I had gave up on my picture even on my god and lay down to die.
I heard a voice and saw a light, the voice said I have been waiting on you to quit for some time now, too tired to even respond, I saw the brush begin to move, yet no hand held it, it painted a tree, a sky, mountain tops covered with ice, a deer off in the distance. All different types of animals began to appear one by one, before long the wall was full of life, at the base of the wall a path, many footprints already on the road, but no people. I got up and began to walk, down this road that seem to have no end. I met others like myself, but they wanted nothing from me, does this place have no meaning, nothing to want for? I began to talk with the others, their stories, just like mine, full of heart ache and sadness. They all spoke of a man, a man who had all the answers to all the questions and how they found happiness in his words of wisdom. To be truly happy you must not want anything, then everything is more than you need, only take what you need, want for nothing.
I began to try this new way of life, thinking this is an impossible thing, the strange thing was, I had never understood what I needed, only what I wanted. Could someone else understand what I need to make me happy? So I waited on each new day to find out what was in store, I would put nothing into place, but only wait to see what showed up, some days I needed to be helped other days I had to help someone else. The days flew by, now years later. I have found the truth, on the days I am able to help others are the happiest ones, even when those I help donít seem to care, I do it for my happiness, when I am in need, I humble myself and take the help from others, thanking them for their good deed. This road goes on for ever the freer I become the less I need. This strange new way of life has brought true joy and happiness.
Some speak about crossing the veil into a world one can only dream of, a place of pure joy and happiness, but only the wise can go, only the truly wise, if we let just anyone in, then the world could die. We must fight and protect this place from those who donít or wont care to understand.
Each is given a short time on earth to search for truth, those who donít give up wont make it, those who do find it. Itís a hard thing to explain, but if you have found your paint brush full of all the wrong colors. Stop and pray to the one who lives for forever, pray that he speaks with you. He donít use words but colors, itís up to you to find the picture. Itís there, right in front of you. In plain sight, ask him to show you, he will. just like he showed me. I will see you on the road, do your part, he will do his.