
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














































