Growing
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Spiritual, Survival
I wonder about you, standing still.
Feel the wind as it touches the tree.
Here is a moment of serenity.
Ask me, beg of me, to have permission to sway.
The heart you have breathes, listen and it speaks.
No two beats sound alike, kindred to nature’s rustling leaves.
Never lost, you know where your roots are.
When you find yourself, in the flowers, life finds you.
In the moment, standing in the tall grass.
The air touches you, caresses your body.
It forces you to your knees, to admire living in awe.
Yet you dream, the warm hand of sun holding you.
Spiritual beams of hope resurrecting desire within everything.
And you wonder, if the world can live with passion such as yours.
Being Average
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Inquisitive, Survival
There I was, just trying to be me.
Who I needed to be, the person I tried to believe
I wasn’t remarkable, nor very special
Just a person, on a fateful day of significance
Where I could choose, to be more
I did not know much, and I often didn’t care to
My stature was tall, but average enough to often go unnoticed
Some said I was creative, but then usually found me bland
While others thought I was interesting, even when they ignored me
My life was not complex, but it was far from simple
On some days I could be so busy, that all I wanted was rest
In the morning I would drag myself awake, yet never conscious
The afternoon would be typically normal, but never boring
During the evening I would find myself quiet, but inside I was screaming
I was not a person that one would remember, or forget
My actions would define many moments, yet never earn me honorable mention
The things I did well, were balanced by the poor things that no one else took credit for
Yet I, the average person, was without true satisfaction or knowing desire
Simply because I believed how amazing being mediocre could be
Relentless
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts, Loss, Survival
Relentless
The world, as I know it
Is full of uncertainty
None of us; neither rich nor poor
Can expect anything but chance
If I grow strong
I will succumb to weakness
If I am fragile
I will be adorned with struggle
Life will not, ever, be equal
It will lead to challenge
Fond desires broken by lustful greed
And if I should survive, I ask for mercy
The physical body can be broken
And the pain will be quick and deep
It will not relent, as neither will our risk
Nor it will give us a place to comfort
Yet our spirit, our soul, will thrive
In darkness and in light
It will define our greatest accomplishment
And heal wounds so severe we cannot forget
The life we have, will be of two parts
One beautiful, like a flower, needing our nurturing
And the other, like a diamond in the rough
Forever withstanding time and the strife of living
Our bravery will be our strength
The courage to raise ourselves in a chorus of triumph
We will shout, not to be heard, but to live
As if we are children screaming into the world
for the first time