When I was a child I can remember laying wide awake in bed at night, looking to the stars and the soft pretty lamplight, whispering a prayer, a desperate plea, yet question unheard. Seemingly so, I wanting to hear a kindness, a touch, wanting so much, but expecting a little, accepting of this, yet crushed by the quiet. Why is it wishes seem to fall ever so silent? Sad and forgotten, not getting much sleep, pressed against pillow I sobbed out “why me?” why do bad things happen to good people, why is it always such a hard pill? Why do my good deeds go by so punished, when I’m surrounded by others so mean and so selfish seeming to get all of the chances? It seems karma and me are in two different dances, twirling and twisting about never to touch, I just want a little for doing so much. To lighten my load even just for a minute, to grant me a promise that tells me it’s worth it. Please, I say louder, although it is night, running this race tell me an end is in sight. Through suffering I was strong, through pain I was their rock, when all was said and done, was it ever a shock. They got what they wanted, I sit ever ill, I gave and I gave, they took and they left now the silence is shrill. Why did I do it, yes it is my nature, to heal to love, to give and to nurture, but now I am broken, why should I have hope, when at this darkest hour I am losing my soul. Why keep the faith when it seems to have forsaken, why pray at all when so much has been taken?
The stars they shine, the clouds come and go, I lay still and numb for I don’t think I’ll ever know. Know why this is life. Why this life is mine. What have I done, Have I wasted my time? Have the years slipped away, has it taken me for granted? When I tried to learn, tried to do it all with such passion. Where is my flame? Where is my chance? I am so dizzy, yet still on I dance. I’ll wake up with day light, I will keep doing, yes keep up the good deeds, though in pain I will keep moving.
For on one of these nights when I looked to my ceiling I had a thought strike with such a of deep feeling. A knowledge? A theory? Divine intervention? It came and possessed me without so much as a mention. Karma, the cosmos, God, Goddess or Spirit, don’t answer with words though now I know they must hear it. In the darkest of times in the most miserable of moments the grievers the sufferers are separated by movement. For those who forge forward. Those who have not given up. Those who still hope as opposed to those who won’t give a fuck. About life and the lives through whom its affected, don’t abuse, self inflict or neglect it. Continue to heal and think of those others, the friends and sisters the mother, the brothers. Of blood or of water the ones who keep moving, who keep up the courage to keep up the action and faith. The ones who give love instead of needing to take.
Karma I thought, as I lay in my bed, isn’t reaction but it is being led. Led down the right path, by making good choices, the answer to prayers lies in the reaction of moments.