The Son Also Rises

I watch the world today. A slurry of borrowed belligerence and stolen tragedy. I am tired of the sullen-souled courtship so many have with their mediocre lives. Where are the lights that rejoice to dance in rainbow form? The whole-bodied spirits that spark on the sky as it darkly slides beneath them? There seems no more a source from which the inspired come. I will not attend anymore emotional funerals. I want to dance and sing. I hear the silver-tongued bell of my wakeup call. Bright. Sharp. Harbinger of greater things than I. I will not go down with the dulled life of the throng. A phoenix knows no fate as such. I am strong of will and mind and heart. My tower built on the corpses of my failures, for, in them, lies my purest truths. My loudest secrets and private skin. I am so ready.

For the longest time, I lived in fear that no one would be there to go under with me. What I failed to realize was that I was not leaving him behind but being left behind by him. I am playing catch up now, but I am excited. I have a life to build; a world to reconstruct anew. Why shouldn't I be thrilled and nervous and confused? A life may be simple to create physically, but it still takes a stout heart to build one more esoteric. I have the chance of a lifetime, and this is where I need to remember. Recall my mistakes and muster the troops. Homeland security historically has been more difficult than all out battlefields and strategy.

So, I will walk alone for now until I can catch up to him. Whoever he is. I am not going to sulk of my problems or cry for myself. I will not drown in myself as so many before have done. And sadly, so many still do. Life is not made for mourning. It is a celebration. Jovial and cathartic. He will know that better than I, and show me things I have been choosing to ignore from a splendid light he exudes deep inside. My name means "warrior of light." Guess it is time I started to act like it.