Revival

Beaded

w–o–r–d–s

hang together on broken

strings, incomplete thoughts an unfinished

necklace of pearls knotted off too quickly before it

fits, choking instead of cascading elegantly, each

forgotten phrase or abandoned idea

a shackle to the progress

of newly birthed

inspirations.

The rut grows

deeper as the c-h-a-i-n

grows longer, until new ideas are

cut off  just to prevent them from

adding to the unbearable

weight of dissatisfied

stagnation.

Complacency

turns the rut into a valley where

progress is a dangerous mountain to scale, an

impossible feat to gaze upon from the

warped angles of the

comfortably flat

grass.

Ambition:

the light and the key to

reveal disappointment still weighing

on inactive minds and to set free the

chained spirits contained within

iron grips of neglected

dreams.

The climb is

not short, nor is it easy, but it

reveals the ditch masquerading as a vale, the

sinkhole hiding behind the

peaceful meadow’s

façade.

Frigid

air at the top is a

slap in the face of laziness as the broken

n-e-c-k-l-a-c-e-s of long ago are allowed to decay and

fresh revival brings with it a newfound

fervor  for the creation

of beautifully

beaded

words.