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The Beauty of What Is

I can't say how many times it all seemed too much. 
Many. So many. 
I danced. I stumbled. 
I laughed. I fell.  
I lurched forward driven by passion's wild horses
and careened backwards with each fresh blow.
I knew the bravado arrogance brings as a dubious gift
and the bitter taste of humble pie.
I was suddenly brilliant
then, just as fast, an idiot.
Knocked to the dust. 
Yet I arose.
Each time, I arose.
An outstretched hand, a familiar voice, inspiring words,
internal GPS, 
whatever the source of the healing balm,
I gratefully applied and repeated as necessary.
I will remember this for next time I always thought,
yet often forgot.
A child in a maze, was it left or right?
Haven't I been here before?
So I sat down of my own volition to contemplate this
and it was then I saw it.
Just look. Then see. How can you have missed this?
The maze itself is quite beautiful,
exquisitely touching
when seen from a surrendered perspective.
The answers will have to wait.


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