To everything there is a source.

All things have an origin.

A place of beginnings

no matter how beautiful or tragic.

That is ground zero.

The natal land

Where

Pre-birth pangs gave way to something grand

Where, fruits of Labor

once brought forth

You can hold in your hand

your nestling dream now visible to all of  man

for once you could hold within your gaze

the substance of hope and faith

The evidence of things  once invisible

as within the depths you could not see

what sprouted desire  would come to be

because

only moments before that dream; the dream that had swelled with in your frame

Is now given a face and a name

At this place

one finds the reason and purpose that drives all things

It is only at that moment, that most significant  moment, that one comes to understand why “caged bird’s sing”

In those passing moments

When expectancy is full

When one is

swollen with hope that birthing brings

that the pent-up thing, soul-deep, bursting forth, fighting to become, is born a living breathing being

That, which was once hidden

no longer concealable

your bosom  much to small to contain such a seed

grown full-term

the being of your destiny

Seeing Ahead

We often can’t see ahead

our eyes were not made for such things

However,

we can see from whence we came

The origin

from birth

to where we stand

Thus,

Oft times we must re-fix our gaze

and remember

The depth and meaning of our source, our birth, natal sands

 Introspect  and recollect

The moment when your first idea blossomed into a dream

when a seed began to  manifest itself as the  tree it could potentially be.

The moment when a brief musing among self or friends began to grow into the next big thing

once just a passing idea, minuscule packages of energy, sparks of  light, circuiting your mental frame

The moment when your hand wrapped around the door knob  and swung open wide the doors of opportunity

Introspect and recollect

The place of birth

the well-spring of everything

What now exists for you in the material was once a little thing

unforeseen

A shard, a fragment, an electric signal in your brain

energy traveling neuronal pathways

Now manifested into everything

Let it keep you humble

But dreaming

for we are all connected

to a single root

buried in the same rich soil

nourished by the same celestial springs

The difference maker

not  the size or type of seedling

but rather

The size of the hope encased within

Even the smallest of things have the propensity to grow big.

• thought to an invention

• Intention to a vision

• hope to a movement

• aspiration to revolution

• a problem to solution

• delicate glass from a grain of sand

• a single cell to a man

If we were to sit and often contemplate how small things become great

Perhaps then we would see the miracles in everything

And

Seize every moment to be all  and do all we can