On The Art Of Being (An Open Letter To The Un-Brave)
Oh, indefinite souls –
What a feast you’ve left on the table!
You began, once, like a new star;
spawned as galaxies collided,
birthed by a universe impatient
for your arrival, your shimmering
from the dust
as glorious as a dawn breaking
the horizon for the very first time.
And in your hand, then, awareness –
Pure and perfect, impassioned and
extraordinary – as in your heart, hope.
Your destiny splayed before you,
a path, an adventure – not for the timid,
but for the soul that might dare
to discover it.
How many times have you turned back
now, to linger, an infant, in the familiar
nursery of Gould’s belt? What of the
universe have you failed to brave
and how little, how regrettably little,
might you still be for having neglected
to realize that you were meant
to be more?