understand this one thing:

your life is a divine poem.
meant to be played out amidst the heavenly bodies,
with all of their summits and troughs,
the vast open deserts of heat and exhaustion.
nobody is born any different,
we just choose to be so.


when your moments are few
you will not look back on the coins you didn't save.
you will recount the stars you beheld
and the glorious perspective the morning gave you
when you thought the night would never end.
you will remember the way drops of seawater ran down your face
and how you swallowed a few and inhaled a few more.
you will look with fondness on
the smell of fire and smoke captured in your clothes,
and the nights where you defined who you were
in front of yourself and no others.
you will remember the cold
and the heat-seeking wind,
extracting the life from your face;
your "poor" lips chapped on the face of the rock,
and your eyes barely opening against the frozen precipice.

should you consider suicide,
remember that nobody is asking you to leap to the end.
[in fact, nobody is asking anything of you at all.]
you are only required to step forward.
one step. the unknown lays before you.
and if, in your life-long poem, you find no more strength
for that one step- you find that step impossible to take-
remember how you were born in love, in life,
ready to kiss the cliffs and sing into the abyss.
leap off if you must,
but remember that you can always write one more line,
you can always take one more action.

and that's all you must do.

in the morning
the sun
rises
above
the city
for a moment

and one morning
wake up early
watch your sun rise before you
he is life
he is warmth
he guilds you
he rules all

and slowly life comes to earth
he awakes us all
he peaks through the clouds
and shines very small

the colors of the rise
is such a surprise
in its beauty and its awe
its the most fairest of all

the dew on the grass
sparkle like diamonds from the sky
bringing a splash to the world
for it is alive!

mountains cut the line
with its unique silhouette
its dances across the horizon
curves as a corset

you smell the caffeinated sent
the aroma crept threw the home
your bed felt like a cloud
on top of the world

so you watch the city wake
early people get about
but its still so very quite
you hear little sound

this is the grace period
the sacred golden hour
richness gleams threw your room
and you hear a shower

its time to get up!
time to live life another day
but today you finally met
the morning in a special way