The day has ended, and I go unto my bed to sleep, and as I feel the cool and softness of the sheets I emit a gentle sigh of release. My body aches from the work of the day and my mind is weary from the burdens of life. Weary I lie down, and weary I rise up, for even sleep can not remove the burdens upon my heart and soul, for some burdens never rest and some thoughts never quite leave. There are those who give me help and comfort as they seek to lessen my burdens, but there are secret burdens of the heart that are unseen to most and they linger and remain. I saw a wild rose growing alongside a road used by coal trucks, and the rose was still a rose in shape and form but all the beauty was buried beneath the coal dust, and even the rain that would wash it clean did not stop the steady stream of trucks that passed each day. Beneath the burdens beauty still remains. I rise up, and some burdens remain and new ones may come, but I will be as the rose and wait for a gentle rain to once more reveal what is hidden beneath. I will not surrender to the burdens of life, I will live, and I will persevere, and I will continue to reach out as the rose longing for a cleansing rain once more. I will lift up my hands and my voice to the one who has the love and the power to break my chains and heal my heart, the one who knows when to send the rain unto the rose that is close to surrendering to the weight that each day brings. I look to the lifter of my head and the healer of my heart, and I wait and I pray, and I wait and I pray.
The Burdens of life
- Thread starter Exonomia
- Start date