The Burn, monday morning, and it still burns


Monday comes each week so full of promise

it arrives unbidden,

not to the tune of a thousand trumpets,

nay, tis an alarm clock for many heralding the start of a new

a new day, a new week, and to a lucky some, a new life…

The air is crisp and chill on my face, as i set out,

sky cast a cloud over all it sees,

road wet from an early morning rain

hill draws nigh, i see the prize which awaits, and the burn begins

the hillprize the prize the prize

the climb while not arduous or long

is symbolic

it reminds me of the day ahead and sets the tone

of the effort to be required to ascend

to ascend the day not merely a hill

to gain the prize of accomlishment

to say to the day at end

I have triumphed of you today, I have conquered this day above all others

i have given to this day, and the day hath yeilded to my will.

I ascend to my summit

and rise into my day and keep the focus on this moment of this day, right now as contemplate my prize at the top of my hill

goals in tact and in sight, like so many bread crumbs left upon a dusty trail my interim goals have meaning only unto me, but meaning do they have for to guide me on my path thru this day…

thru this moment which is everlasting for as i am present unto now so to does the day rise up to greet me in this hour

so to does the power of the moment rain strength down upon me if i am but only aware of the rain

the burn becomes bright i feel the heat coursing thru my veins and breathe

today i will live a full measure, and give thanks i am able thus….


the StorySpeaker



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