The Choice is Mine

“Do not go quietly into that dark night,” the dawn whispers, as I seek asylum.

Not to you, but for you…

The words hang above me with reverence as I draw them to my heart with peace. The answers that I seek lie scattered in the unknown, just outside my grasp. Humbled am I in this place.

With thanksgiving, I bow my head to the element of control for I know not what lies ahead. All I know is that what was, is no longer, and what is, is. And what is to come, may never be.

All these things happen for me, not to me.

I am not a victim in this place. The world, with all of its darkness, does not dull my shine for I choose my part in this play. I am not assigned a role or confined to a box handed to me based upon my height, weight, age, or socioeconomic status.

No.

I am the creator of my destiny and thus I embrace the knowing that things happen for me, not to me.

Life is full of imperfection — the dark night that spotlights immorality, deception, the shadows found in the hollow, but I shall not go quietly. No. I am the breath of air that refuses to be held beneath the surface. I am the combustion that when compressed explodes into energy.

I am energy.

And I choose to infuse leftover residue with expansion, with hope, and with catalytic incense that wafts and wanes, dispersing and dissipating into all there is, to become one with life.

I rise. I stand to my feet in ovation, roaring eccentricity to stand on mountain tops and scream my passion to LIVE. I shall not go quietly into the night.

No!

I shall know that I lived! And that I loved! And that I dove deep into the waters of the unknown and emerged victorious.

Things happen for me, not to me. And I choose, I choose LIFE!