What do I say to the one who is
but mortified with self defeat, struggling in torment from lack of confidence
in a bleak and barren terrain? A man so confused that the hand he once knew is
foreign and strange. Do I stand and watch him fall to his knees then sink sink
sink, or do I challenge him, even when he does not recognize his own voice?
What are words at the moment? Are they but meaningless hot air with sounds so useless?
“Silence will do the trick,” one says. Others with voices frigid and callous
say “leave him, he is but nothing.”
Do we but do nothing and stand in silence watching him plummet to the unforgiving ground. “No,” I say, “no, we do not.” I must step up and help him with a heart full of hope, but will he learn to believe in himself, if I but do? I will embarrass him; bring even more dishonor to him. No, he must do this alone but not alone, with the comfort of tomorrow. That will be his companion. A promise none can brake. What that day may bring only he can foretell.
Do we but do nothing and stand in silence watching him plummet to the unforgiving ground. “No,” I say, “no, we do not.” I must step up and help him with a heart full of hope, but will he learn to believe in himself, if I but do? I will embarrass him; bring even more dishonor to him. No, he must do this alone but not alone, with the comfort of tomorrow. That will be his companion. A promise none can brake. What that day may bring only he can foretell.
As the audience of once believers question,
doubt his capabilities, there is but one, one who still believes. Will my faith
help him move forward or will it be in vain? Do I but view him through the
judgmental lenses of those who are quitting him? Look to his heart, is what I
must do, look deep deeper deeper, there I will find motive, purity, and valor.
I must cling to the possibilities and hope in the unseen while looking into his eyes,
eyes that are blood shot, tired, and dreary and stare back with confidence,
overwhelming confidence in his potential and what I have seen him be in my dreams. Then, will I find him rising ever so slowly slowly slowly, with all but me
left to see him ascend, clinching his fists as the tear drop sweat drips drips drips
into his eyes, then watch bewildered as he stumbles to take ever such a step
forward, with a thud only one close enough can hear, then take another and
another, hastening his pace till fearlessly running towards the impossible and watch my hope come true, as this man I
love, fights the good fight and finishes the race, none but he can finish.
-Written by me, for the one I hold dear to my heart and love compassionately
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| Kelly 1935 |
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