Some prints are saturated in mud.
Some are permanent clay.
What gives me great joy is knowing in the sand before me I see the promise of Better Days...
I am walking it.
Therefore, I will write it.
Fully Focused!!
Blessings,
DLR
As I look at my footprints I see where I have been.
Some prints are saturated in mud. Some are permanent clay. What gives me great joy is knowing in the sand before me I see the promise of Better Days... I am walking it. Therefore, I will write it. Fully Focused!! Blessings, DLR
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I can still feel the uncomfortable despair of disappointment today. It has been twenty years, but some memories and lessons carry us through life. I have often been able to suppress disappointing moments in my past; however, this misfortune has structured present and ongoing progression in my life. I was merely a teenager. I had a close net of friends. We looked out for each other. We experienced disagreements with each other at times, but that was between us. Yet, nobody outside of the close net could penetrate our bond. We all were athletic, so we carried our union into sports and organized functions. As a mature individual, today, I realize how incapacitating recognition can be. As a young immature boy then, recognition was the personification of competence and displayed capability. That is absurd in reflection today, but it was unequivocally accurate to me as a teenager. While engaging in playing organized sports with my close net of friends, I was the first to be recognized in the local newspaper for my accomplishments. What a wonderful feat. Unfortunately, it was my first reality check with unprocessed but identifiable selfishness. You see, when my other friends begin to make the newspaper for their accomplishments, and my name was no longer there I resented my friends. So much so, I acted on my resentment. I have never forgotten the statement, or the conversation. The clown of the close net, but the true heart reported this to me, "Man, your boy said you are not passing him the ball because he is making the paper over you..." I was 15 years old that day, but it hurts just as bad, today, at 35. There was no suppression because there was no secret. The only person in the dark was me. I carry the disappointment of my selfishness in that experience as a reminder ... If I am willing to forsake my foundation for it, I do not need it. Blessings, DLR I can remember the first encounter. It was a hot summer day. An unexpected occurrence in an often overlooked town where the street lights controlled the time.
Your presence was welcomed. Your smile was refreshing. In reflection, the country had glimpsed the intrigue of the city. Little I knew. The day was destined. Our encounter was a prerequisite to forever. Today, it resonates in a simple kiss before we part. In this moment, it reflects in my heart. Reminiscent of a hot summer day long ago. Today, it is neither unexpected nor overlooked. My First Love, nothing short of story book. Blessings, DLR In admittance, I sometimes wonder... why me? And I am reminded of my uncle's words, "Why not me?" I can recall the day he expressed them to me. There was no pity nor despair in his eyes. I seen hope and unwavering faith glistening directly at me through his stare.
My uncle's answer at that time was him answering a question reflective of his then presenting situation. He was convicted in his answer that day. So much so, when the question arises for myself, I reflect back on his answer... Why not me... I now realize his understanding. In that moment, it went beyond him and I. When my day becomes long and hard to bear, I reflect on my uncle's answer. In those moments, life shines back fair. Blessings, DLR |
D. L . Randall
I am complex in mind, but simple at heart. I love life for I am imperfect, yet perfect at heart. Archives
April 2018
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