Barely noticed are the minutes that surrender themselves to days, months and years

Time viewed as lost when gazing backward through the heavy veil of selfishness,

But the soul rises from the depths of muck and mire, brushing off its dusty residue,

Revealing life, the precious gift exquisitely wrought by the Creator’s own hands.

Abounding resiliency from deep within allows not the tedious luxury of self-pity,

For the soul knows the last breath of life could stealthily arrive when least expected.

Awareness of that fragile existence, precariously hanging about on feathered string,

Brings forth a boldly vigorous determination to fully live life and not merely exist.