I believe

By Raymond Te korako Ruka

I too believe in the preciousness of self. Therein

is the article of the master’s paint, then they’re

invited to go hang their revelation upon a wall

inside an august gallery of renown, somewhere,

so others may come to stare or in fact adore, 

based on their own union with the article or simply stare

into a mirror. At the eyes, the skin the coloring,

the depth or more properly the tone, it’s builder’s

construct from what may be to what can be

imagined. Alas, only creator is the one that knows. 

And in that knowing, only he or she  sees how small

and insignificant that magnificence is measured

against the totality and grandeur of all that is out

side of even that huge advantage point of view. 

And in that, I have come to believe. 

One step at a time gets us to where we go. Either 

along the path of potential or up the ladder of success.

Just don’t look back, or don’t look down. Never look

too far ahead either, those Old Ladies of Yore

warned, “In case you  stumble because there will

be blocks guarding the way.” Most importantly, be

aware of your own shortcomings. The universal

noisy din we hear  are those things stumbling that

we are loath to admit are our own contribution to

the chorus. “Don’t look down too often either, in

case that fear of lofty heights and things which are 

hidden in every one’s unawakened potential, causes

us to lose what confidence we do have, and makes

us fail. We remember, remembering too late about

our precariousness…as we fall. But, luckily for us

we don’t fall to the ground. Somehow by luck or self

preservation we catch that last rung, the bottom one

where there are hordes of loud voices and people

everywhere are talking over each other, telling any

one who hadn’t taken up talking again. But yes you

guessed right, they all had, they were all telling their 

unique and wonderful  story. If only someone, any

one, would listen…”If only they had built upon the

rock of self-belief, and raising their hand, then

standing tall as they could-have-had when they had

had that one opportunity, they never took. And all

the Elders looking on shook their heads then bowed

them low. They would go back to the  beginning and

start over again and pray that the next time would 

be the one they’d waited for, for millennia, when 

came the time they crossed the line for the final

time before the real crisis struck and that was that 

they’d all forgot why it was, that-this-had, all began”.