Wild as the ocean, free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Wild as the ocean. Free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


Why do I fight? Who am I fighting for?
What life am I trying to save if no one cares?
I ask my head, the sky, what bravery is needed to save a lost soul?
And why is it my task, when none for the asking have bid doing so?
In the end when the corpses are rotting and flesh returns home, will it matter?
When the dust settles and the story is over, who will remember the solitary acts of kindness, bravery or servitude?
The brave?
The saved?
It will be done, finished. Who will remember?

No one is asking.  Let it go and run with the dead dear child.
Let it flow and be one with less meaning, whatever the skies demand, just flow.
Life is a swirl of movement, a giant storm of mist floating around our heads,
pulling us into the chaos in some grand humorous act by an accident of nature.
We just are. We really don't know.
The dark red of our souls will continue to flow until the last one standing declares it is over.
There is nothing you can do.
No one is asking.

So save your own life for now.  The time will come when the earth grows quiet, a pause to breathe it's own breath sighing out and releasing.
When as it does...all will be let go from this grip of existence.
So until then dear child, let it go, let yourself flow into the vein of life and stop fighting. Stop caring for a moment.

©2/16/11 Danya Mosgofian both photos by Danya Mosgofian ©2008

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