At the bottom of my glass of failure I found my success. I walked briskly towards it. It returned a smile and let me bask in rays of sunshine and sweat. I sat beneath a dirty awning gazing at open skies.
Listening to the singing and wondering "why?"
I boarded. Thankful, joyous, content.
I ran on in my head. Loot in hand. Art in tow. Projects bouncing around against the walls of my mind.
"Hooray!" I say. As I take the bounty of my labors, love, lost, into my room to pontificate and shed a layer of defeatism, and celebrate the wonderment of my lust for food and creative spirits that awaken me in the night.
I stir the contents of the cup once more....
Oh, it is not failure that the day brings, but more awakenings there.
Listening to the singing and wondering "why?"
I boarded. Thankful, joyous, content.
I ran on in my head. Loot in hand. Art in tow. Projects bouncing around against the walls of my mind.
"Hooray!" I say. As I take the bounty of my labors, love, lost, into my room to pontificate and shed a layer of defeatism, and celebrate the wonderment of my lust for food and creative spirits that awaken me in the night.
I stir the contents of the cup once more....
Oh, it is not failure that the day brings, but more awakenings there.
