The Wordsmiths Book 2021

The paradox of being in the wrong place at the right time. Alone,

but more truly found than lost. We are burned but, in that flame, Renewed. So we journey the path of life, Beset with broken and bloodied toenails, Sliding down shale mountains: Or sometimes with knees pulsating, knife-sharp-shooting pain, we trudge up our own personal Pyrenees. Head down,

Willing ourselves on, One incremental step

by one incremental step, Never daring to gaze up, Bewildered by the scope of the climb ahead. Looking up is only for the brave, Who see it all ahead and remain defiant, Unafraid, Foolishly jaunty. The rest of us, Simply trudge, Mired in moment after edifying moment, Seeing patterns in the trodden path, Growing, stopping time, being still with our gods. There’s courage in that;

The simple life, The simple trust, The way we suffer quietly, Facing what’s ahead, Even nobly. No fuss, no bother,

No lifetime guarantees, Just accepting, facing, And rejoicing in whatever’s ahead.

Dr Michael Brohier [BA, (Hons), Dip Ed, Master’s in Literature, PhD]

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