What Hides within the Beast
I have been a prisoner to the promise that the truth, no matter how deeply buried, will always, eventually, be revealed. And I have waited within that childish idea. Holding it close like a pillow. Sobbing into its soft fabric as it reassuringly dried my eyes and let me look upon a new day - to sustain; to lay down roots in new ground. My garden is bountiful now. The tomatoes red and ripe, and I am no stranger to the bedfellow I call appreciation. For one who has not fostered a relationship with appreciation will find no joy in this world. Joy is the toy that was snatched from our young feeble hands and our adult lives then became a desperate search to retrieve it, and yet, it is almost always found by our feet. My garden is bountiful. The leaves on my lettuces are unharmed, uneaten, and only I shall devour them. Joy springs from the ground. The seeds that I planted held a truth within them. They had knowledge. That knowledge, buried in the darkness of dirt, found its way to the surface to reveal itself and show to the world what it truly is. We are all, each of us, seeds in this way. I appreciate seeds and I nourish them. I appreciate the birds. I appreciate the trees. I appreciate the seasons changing and I observe how time is changing me. The lion's jaws are but a distant memory, as is the bated breath, and the crowd's thunderous applause.
