The Soft Edge of Dark

Moments are forced upon us though we forge our own paths.

There are possibilities and false leads in every direction.

The outcome is never an absolute and regret or relief might both result.

The soft edge of dark lures us into the void then leaves us waiting, alone.

This is what chokes our airways, stanches our blood.

 

It’s the response we choose that makes us who we are – hero, fool, supplicant.

Knowing that the future is always a mystery grants us courage or makes us cower.

Success is a triumph one day, an accusation the next, a mourner over the open grave.

It slices our souls. It pools our tears. It makes us human.

This is what sears our minds, opens our hearts to prayer.

 

Just a thought 79

 

Landscape painting by Orson Pratt Huish, courtesy Wikipedia

 

 

 

Three Cardinal Directions

If you were a Boy or Girl Scout, you know the four cardinal directions – south, west, north, and east. It’s basic compass and map work and even though our compass interpreter might nowadays be Siri or some other computer voice coming at us, I’m still sympathetic to the motive for moving in the right direction. A navigational compass will direct you to your destination if you know how to read the spinning arrow and relate it to the curvy lines on a topographic map. This story isn’t about the compass that failed, but the people who failed, and those who didn’t.