Thursday, December 15, 2011

Again, I sit on the brink.

I still remember the night in Portland when I found out I was homeless. The summer air hung on me. It clung to my clothes as I walked. My breath, shallow, starved my brain. I had faced the fear of the unknown and cowered. I lost hope. This was the consequence.  I shrunk from what could have become to follow the sure thing.

It may have been fruitless to hope in the vastness of the unknown, but what else is there unless I held onto hope?

Till my last dying breath, I shall hope. When the summer air stands above me and casts its eyes down again, I shall be looking up and saying, "Hey, I'm here, and I have hope. Do your worst because I no longer fear the pain of loss."

I shall embrace the loss until I win this tireless game.

Or I shall die trying.

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Ambitiously enduring.