For What It's Worth

I build up these momentary victories...

idealize them in my mind.

Then tear them down for being what they are: momentary.

I wish for something lasting, longer than a breath or a passing day.

What hope is there in something to be born… only to die so soon?

To put forth time and force upon a thing so frail and needy...

For what?

Do I act for glory upon the act?

Do I yearn for the attention it gathers?

For a moment, a bright shining sun!

… but the next, darker than before.

Perhaps instead I do wish for a slow simmering.

A thing that lasts and lasts.

I would breathe its familiar scent and know it like my own soul.

Not to boil.

Neither to be stagnant.

Yet… I cannot quiet the eager expectation of more.

To think, to settle, to have the comfort of consistent…

It is a greater loss.

For even though the pain of falling from the highest height surely inflicts wounds,

Might I smile and tell the story of a scar that changed my eyesight,

And find hearts that reach for a knowing look of shared pain.

If climbing for a momentary victory means falling…

And losing that which I strive for...

 (which is a deeper pain than not having it at all)

 Let me lose all then and gain the heart of another friend.

For a heart will grow and live beyond these momentary days.