Pieces of Courage

When I begin to feel like I don’t have courage enough for life, or strength enough for this, I try to pick up pieces of courage from the shambles of a life now and then shattered, of a world which I often do not understand but continue to marvel at with wonder and with openness.

It does not take much to live, really, if one wishes only to exist and nothing more. But to try to make life worth the struggle—to make this life count, those lives better, maybe to find love in between—how much does it take? How much more of you, and how much more of me? Or more to the point—do we really have what it takes, or are we inherently lacking?

The thing is that caring, whether little or too much, will always require things of you. Things which sometimes you do not know whether you yourself have in adequate amount. Things like courage.

So I am trying to look for pieces of courage I can pick up.

Where might they be found?

Maybe in a song, maybe in a book.
Maybe in the way a garden right after the rain makes it look like the world was born yesterday.

Maybe in a smile, maybe in crisp laughter.
Maybe through tears.

Maybe through a pen, a few words written down.

Maybe in a memory,
or maybe in a vision.

Maybe in you,
maybe in me.

In time, we will know. ♠

~ ο ~

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