Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago, I thought I would share it. Its really almost a prayer for me. The ending may seem overly morose, but I don't see it that way.
the crux
Sitting in the crux
Of a life already had
And yet to be.
Ready to run,
Unable to walk.
Prepared for what?
Motionless
Our questions do not
Bring answers
Passion heats our soul
And music fills our hearts.
A reservoir of love desperate to flow.
Tugging at the shorelines
Of an aching heart.
Promises once so bright
Are now empty.
Hope that illumined our hearts has dwindled.
Apathy is death.
the crux
Sitting in the crux
Of a life already had
And yet to be.
Ready to run,
Unable to walk.
Prepared for what?
Motionless
Our questions do not
Bring answers
Passion heats our soul
And music fills our hearts.
A reservoir of love desperate to flow.
Tugging at the shorelines
Of an aching heart.
Promises once so bright
Are now empty.
Hope that illumined our hearts has dwindled.
Apathy is death.