I am the Samurai who draws up courage from the ink wells scribing time, where death is not darkness, but shooting arrows drop by drop for a liquified line, of word, fluid yes, discerning of all said rhymes, or not, but a hunger strikes each hungered note, making it mine.

Is life all of misery, or has it become entombed with excessive worry, this darkness that shines a light from within the night, might it have evolved from righteousness sight, I do not know.

I am as I rise with age in a dry season and evoke the clouds of gray swirling smoke from the flash suppressor’s rage like a silver ghost.

Ah, but memories linger, some that is, as we eternalize each new word we memorialize. Memories as a swift current of wind upon a small mountain of prairie covered grass, not so of an indignant nature, No! Lost only to the why’s of a childhood hunger for truth.

The shape-shifting of persona, a child’s identity lost to the vulnerability of just being a child, never responsive for his surroundings of mirrored thoughts stuck deep within his subliminal thought process. He grows to wander through the streets, thickets, and thorns, only to recover a diminutive fraction of his real self. But he continues to try.

Hard pavement he walks mile upon mile never understanding his definition of success, or for a divine providence to levitate his earthly life into the realms projected by his interior voice heard loud as thunder. Or flashes of light coming from within, a rosary on fire, was this his dark night of the soul?

And, this too, I do not know. But faith requires even more faith, when confusion upsets your day. The outcome for a troubled life steals nothing but a steely word of verb and noun never to be seen, again. Is this my last muse? Why he stands tall.  

The turning of his heart through a midnight’s counsel sheds a new kind of light buried deep within his soul, a deep reverence and awe for mercy shall be the seeds that are sown, reaping I say, a near death resurrection leaving him rejoiceful for having discovered a new friend in the night.

In gratitude I leave you with many thanks.

3 thoughts on “Walking toward Mercy

  1. Good evening, i liked your post, interesting story and very well written, i like unique stories, it always sounds much better🤗

    Liked by 1 person

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