Serendipity

Image: Pinclipart The short blade glistened in the sun, it made his eyes water He couldn’t figure out why he hesitated, what made him contemplate WHY!!! He doubted whether he had the right to; he wondered if it was right The cause seemed lost to him He thought of home for a second, the farm where he grew up, it made him feel at peace, such irony; contemplating peace with a dagger in hand The man kneeling before him had hair like that of Ahmid, his younger brother; whom he would give his life for in a heartbeat. He knew now he couldn’t go through with it, a task he had performed with precision many times before, with such swiftness, with such detachment but also with such fear. A morning of ironies it seemed. He found empathy at the most ill opportune of times, courage made his eyes water, bravery made his hands tremble and love made his heart bleed The fourth man in a line of ten, twenty men, ten with seconds to live.  Perhaps now, eleven.

Image: Expressworks I never gave much thought to the whole brouhaha surrounding Bruce Jenner’s evolution into Caitlyn, I had lumped it into the category of one of those bizarre things that happen frequently in the west. Granted, such things now happen pretty much everywhere else, but I dare say the west has always been known to glamorise such feats.  What got me thinking a little bit more about the whole story was how some groups of people started to praise Bruce for his bravery and courage.  I actually had to look up the meaning of bravery as I began to write this piece. Bravery is described as courageous behaviour or character, bravery was described with synonyms such as  brave spirit or conduct, courage, valour. Yet another source describes it as the quality that allows someone to do things that are dangerous or frightening. I did this so that I could understand why 'bravery' was most used to describe the actions carried out by this sixty five year old ex Olympian...

Image: PNG Key Anyone hardly misses the three white men who bid visitors welcome into this city; the lines of fame and infamy are thinly drawn in the minds of many.  But reality is often quite a personal thing, everyone with their own experience and story.        With a rich history and very vibrant future, there’s all to live for in the city of dreams. Life’s tough in this city, it makes minced meat of unsuspecting victims, yet the influx into this intricate geography is amazing, its bowels swell by the day. But that, perhaps is what makes the city so formidable, its diversity, its experience, its wealth; unparalleled. It struggles to maintain its grace, what is left of its natural beauty. It’s still quite striking when you watch it slowly begin to submerge, until its totally immersed in the yellow rays of the sun; resplendent, picturesque. And so begins the rush, the exchange of vitality for cheddar; oh the city will drain you, i...

Image The Blaze She comes, happily She comes in, unassumingly She comes into my mind and plays She comes before me and I pray She comes, gently She comes in, searchingly She leaves with the door half open, half closed Half mystery, half solved She leaves as she came With a smile and with grace Reaching farther than when last she came She leaves, she comes, it isn't a game She leaves, she comes, she came

The shrill screams pierced through the silence of the night like a hot knife through butter, but there was no one to hear.  The pain increased in pangs with each passing minute, Omoye had all but given up hope.  She was drenched to the marrow in a mixture of sweat and tears, she didn’t think anyone was capable of enduring so much pain.  Her breathing was heavy and fluttered, her eyes dimmed and muscles tensed, she wondered if these agonising moments would be her last.  Alas, in the midst of all the chaos, an awkward cry arose, high pitched and thin. Silence, and then more screeching. Almost breathless, she looked down, it was a boy, her son was crying for her. 

Image: Bonusly Purpose sometimes is a puzzle, sweating, toiling and hoping for the best Can we have fried eggs for lunch? Maybe not or not yet But you cannot afford to be drowned  in doubt, in the dream, in the shadows of cynicism Leaping in bounds doesn’t always require energy, sometimes just a synergy, of the soul and your resolve At the edge of the meadow, we contemplate and take stock, the air is rife with change and oranges Drift off, buoyed by courage, stringed by enthusiasm Things always look different from up there Again bounded by memory, slack, sticky and poignant It’s the oldest trick in the book, you will do well to bank, (a little) towards the sun,(full on) towards grace,(always) towards inspiration

And so, this marks my foray into the world of blogging. Here I let loose, leaving all inhibitions at the door, here I speak my mind, pouring out words as they are conceived in the inner recesses of my mind. I welcome you to Serendipity, which will sometimes be words, sometimes discovery, sometimes a journey, but always an adventure.   Tomorrow, first words...