You hear the thunder and remember the other night’s fear. Do not surrender.
You feel the knees that will not bend and you feel old. Do not surrender.
You see the calendar’s pages accumulating, time is marching fast. Do not surrender.
You hear the work phone demanding you work even more hours. Do not surrender.
You feel the weariness in your body yet more to do. Do not surrender.
You read what only seems to be news of despair and pain. Do not surrender.
You remember faces and touches of the past now gone. Do not surrender.
You drew a line in the sand, took a stand and then retreated. Do not surrender.
You remember the gun only sounds at the beginning of the race- there are no reminders to keep going except the words ‘hope,” “choice,” and “start again.” It’s only a thin ribbon at the end and you can break through that if you want to keep going. Surrender.
About Me
- Beth Chapman
- Owatonna, Minnesota, United States
- I have begun a path, though I know not where, to a journey’s end that is calling. Along the way I pause to absorb the metaphors and images of this life, which are so precious. Here you shall find me brave, you shall find me pondering, you shall find me searching, and you shall find me collecting the images and metaphors like shells upon the beach. I am very much like the little monkey wearing a dapper hat, playing the cymbals and drum and dancing a jig. I do not have it all figured out, I may be learning to write, but one thing I do know and that is how to collect the shells on the beach of my beloved Gulf Shores. I offer these shells to you.
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