A Poetic Essay
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| Photo: colourbox.com |
We grope in darkness and call out for light only to get answered by strife.
It's not unheard of old aches returning to taunt fairly healed scars. Sometimes, Fate could be that absurd. But that's just the way it is, lifting the songwriter's words.
History cannot be unlived. But if faced with courage needs not be relived again. - Maya Angelou.
And it's been said, the past makes us what we are. (I think I heard that in a Jet Li flick) But how do we erase the marks of the scar?
Mistakes are the bane of our existence and extremely unavoidable. Still, the greatest glory in living is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall. - Mandela
A dream deferred could provoke the greatest pain ever discovered especially, a dream rooted in the most sensitive spot in your heart. The adversities that engage us and almost rip us apart beyond repair hold within 'em the seed of our ressurection.
It's impossible not to feel injured when all you hoped to achieve shipwreck inches from the shoreline.
Some come out of the fire, squeak and clean, others just crash and burn still, some step out unscathed but lose everything they invested an entire life to build to the fire.
The pains uncovered are the footprints of unfulfilled dreams; the agonies of darkness visible; the frustrating emptiness of might-have-beens.
We grasp for a reality that blurs into fantasy before our very eyes; to substance swallowed up within a shadow and step out to face the days of our lives in defeat. At this point, the soul is deprived of every single reason to wrestle annihilation. Time crawls, eternity speeds along and life through your bloodshot eyes is a blur of rage.
We are made to concede defeat; made aware that some of the stuff we lost will never be regained-a loved one, opportunity to go to college, friendship that never was and prospects that fizzled away on the fringes of dawn. But the glory of life is not in recapping a trove of hurtful memories but in purifying them to the point that they act as catalysts to personal excellence.
Life, living, must be perceived as one constant sacrifice. And that gives the impression that at some stages in life one must be willing to let go of something, (precious, yes! But that's the point of sacrifices, isn't it?) to offer up something in the game of life.
Things that we lost to the fires of desire often help us, drive us to the limits of our genius. And concealed in the disguise of pain are the blessings of sacrifice!
Akpan
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