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Writer's pictureBlake Storey

Soulful Sundays: Alma Mater


How do I describe it?

What words are up

For such a lofty task?


Sublime?


We once worshiped in the great cathedral,

But all good things have an end.

Dwelling in comfort for too long

Leads to death by indulgence.

Besides, what use are prayers

Without real-world trials?

So we left the temple,

Screaming into the abyss.


Forbearing?


If we are lucky to find patience,

Then we are luckier than most.

We possess a singular voice

And must command mountains.

We also possess a hunger

Or it possesses us.

The will to continue

Separates "is" from "was".


Despisable?


Once more we leave,

This time for good.

There is a sanctimonious way

And then there is everything else.

In a world that lacks a script

We create our own sacred drama.

It works if you don't look too closely

At the book with no binding.


Nostalgic?


A memory without the painful details.

Humans are masters of forgetting.

We are also adept at remembering

How we want things to be.

In the harsh disconnect with reality,

We are forced to confront our demons,

And often those demons

Are very convincing.


Transformative?


It all gets back to one question:

Why are we here?

If we believe that the answer is

A simple truth:

That we are, or once were, loved.

Even on the smallest of scales,

That atomic unit of energy

Is enough to justify the whole chain reaction.


Who is your Alma Mater?

Who breathed your life into existence?

How can you ever repent?


All that we can hope for

Is that our continual offering of life

Will be sufficient.


It is all that we have,

And all that we don't.


Love as much as you can,

Because love is the only thing

That can overcome pain.



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