“God is intent on getting the message out about the power of “war-ship” (worship). I was watching the news one night and with a “slip of the tongue” a CNN commentator announced to the world God’s strategy for war. Reporting from Washington D.C. on September 21, 2001, the reporter said that along with B-52 bombers,

“We are sending F-16 fighter planes, which travel at supersonic speeds and carry ‘air to air’ and ‘air to ground’ attack musicians.”

She quickly corrected her statement to say, “munitions.”

However, the message couldn’t be clearer. The same weapon…..defeated the enemies of Judah (2nd Chronicles 20:21,22).
When we sing and play God’s praises, it goes into the air to move heaven and out into the earth to move people to win the
battle for God’s purposes.”

2nd Chronicles 20:20-22

20 And they rose early in the morning, and went forth into the wilderness of Tekoa: and as they went forth, Jehoshaphat stood and said, Hear me, O Judah, and ye inhabitants of Jerusalem; Believe in the Lord your God, so shall you be established; believe His prophets, so shall you prosper.

21 And when he had consulted with the people, he appointed singers unto the Lord, and that should praise the beauty of holiness, as they went out before the army, and to say, Praise the Lord; for His mercy endures for ever.

22 And when they began to sing and to praise, the Lord set ambushments against the children of Ammon, Moab, and mount Seir, which were come against Judah; and they were smitten.

It’s been around twelve years since the Avengers were defeated and scattered by the villainous android known as Ultron. Captain America, Wasp, Giant Man, Black Panther, Hawkeye and Black Widow are all dead. Thor (Michael Adamthwaite) is in Asgard and Hulk (Fred Tatasciore) is missing. Iron Man (Tom Kane) and Vision (Shawn Macdonald) are the only ones left but Iron Man is in charge of protecting the children of the original Avengers: James (Noah C. Crawford) – the son of Captain America and Black Widow, Torunn (Brenna O’Brien) – the daughter of Thor, Pym (Aidan Drummond) – the son of Giant Man and Wasp, Azari (Dempsey Pappion) – son of Black Panther and….Hawkeye (Adrian Petriw) – son of, well….Hawkeye.

It starts out a little slow and depressing, what with some of the kids (Pym especially) being annoying and all the cool Avengers being dead or gone.

The animation and action sequences were fairly well-done, but it might be a little too “cartoony” for some older viewers. It’s very reminiscent of a Saturday morning cartoon special, but depending on how you look at it, that could be a good thing, too.

The take on the Avengers’ kids was kind of a neat idea but some of the character motivations were a little vague and seemed thrown in there. (Thor seems to have basically let the Avengers be slaughtered). While we’re at it, for a kid’s flick, this is pretty dark. It deals with death and it deals with loss. Grown-up themes for the kiddos, in my opinion, but as long as a parent is watching with the kids and can explain all that stuff if they need to ask, it should be fine.

All-in-all, it was good to watch just as sort of a “What If?” type of thing.

JOE Rating: ★★★

     Each and every day, choose to speak positivity into your life. Before you go to sleep, take a few moments to dwell on your goals for the future.  When you wake in the morning, let uplifting thoughts be the last thing on your mind before you rise from your bed.  It’s a great way to begin your day on a positive high note.  Soon you will learn to make sure you are practicing this exercise in a continuous manner, because it feels so good.  After a while, you will notice a disturbing change to your inner peace when you do not. So the next time your mind begins to dwell on the negative, choose a positive word instead. For example, when you wish more money would come into your life, don’t call it a financial drought.  If you know anything about droughts, then you know they come with a wet CYCLE, which means a flood is also just as inevitable.  Say to yourself, the money flood is on its way!

When it seems like you’re facing defeat, call it a Victory, because now you know what NOT to do next time.

Don’t call it a divorce, call it a
Disassembly, because after this you’re going to match your piece with a much better fit.

Don’t call it a retreat, call it a Comeback, because once you get a little R&R, you’ll be ready for round 2.

There’s always a better word. CHOOSE WISELY!

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1. Some deny they exist. This works until the day you have a nervous breakdown because of all the emotions you’ve had pent up inside you. If you don’t learn from this, you’ll go on pretending issues don’t exist, thinking that doing so will make them go away on their own. Problems are “problems” because they usually won’t solve themselves.

2. Some kind of acknowledge they exist but stick to the idea that they’ll work themselves out. Yes, many things in life do naturally work themselves out, but if you’re faced with a problem, it’s there because it can’t work itself out. This course of action will be about as successful as the first.

3. Some numb themselves to emotions and learn to live with them. We call this “building a wall.” You know the last time you probably heard that phrase? That someone has build a wall around their heart? It’s usually in the context of someone wanting to break it down. It will come down, eventually. It’s the nature of life. But the higher you build the worse the destruction so you’re better off not to do it at all.

4. Some just lay down and accept their sad fate because they know their problems will never be solved and will probably kill them. You know these types of people. The “woe is me” types who victimize themselves and suddenly everything in the world is out to get them. If you want to be like this, that’s your prerogative. Have fun living a miserable, self-deprecating life.

5. And some actually acknowledge the problem, and rise to the challenge of dealing with it. Often, we don’t deal with problems because we’re afraid of the alternative to them not working out the way we’d like. But even if that does happen, not everything is lost, because what you found in the process was the courage to take responsibility for your own life. What you found was the ability to not lay down and accept what’s thrown at you but to get up and at the very least, try. 

You should like Thought Catalog on Facebook here.

It was a lot of information to follow – basal body temperature, cervical mucus, hormones, supplements… – the list was never ending and it became very frustrating as I anxiously awaited the approaching date of an expected period with a brand new box of pregnancy tests – only to get negative results for what seemed to be eons.  The year and three months it took us to conceive was tremendously difficult – and I will forever be empathetic to the struggles couples face with extended infertility – we were ecstatic when the pregnancy test shown brightly with two little pink lines.  All the tears and heartache I felt each month was able to fade away.  The amount of faith I had lost in my body was finally able to ease away from my thoughts.

I was finally pregnant - I could do this - I was on top of the world – It was my body’s time to shine – I’m not broken.

Pregnancy went off without any major complications.  I had planned on the midwife model of care and prenatal visits were great.  I was growing a healthy baby and the the decline of most of the prenatal testing I was left to enjoy pregnancy.  I did have the usual swelling, Plantar Fasciitis, Tinea Versicolor, round ligament pain, the regular aches and pains, gained a lot of weight and suffered quite a bit of the third trimester insomnia – but pregnancy was good.

My belly was massive and was quite the conversation piece in social situations – but I was so proud of my belly – so proud of my baby – and so full of trust and appreciation for my body as it prepared for labor.  There was no doubt in my mind that my body was going to do exactly what it was supposed to do when the time came.  I trusted the process – I trusted my body – I trusted my care providers and I absolutely trusted birth.  With all the research into natural (un-medicated) birth I had done, and all the wonderful birth stories I had read – I was even more empowered to give birth to my child – I could do this.  Even when my estimated due date passed I knew that I could do this – my baby was just waiting for the right time to come into the world.

I was patient – my body knew what it was doing – my baby knew what it was doing – I can do this.

I woke up on a Sunday morning to a hard contraction.  I was 8 days past my due date and I knew that this was it.

I was ready – baby was finally ready – my body was finally ready – I was ready to do this.

Labor was wonderful.  I loved every contraction.  They were like waves in the ocean.  They were getting me one step closer to meeting my baby.  My husband and I laughed and hugged and enjoyed each other as we knew this pregnancy was soon to turn into a beautiful child.  I labored at home for about 12 hours before we called our midwife with contractions about 3 minutes apart.  She said that we would be fine to head into the hospital if I thought I was ready and to get our nest built – I was ready to go – I was ready to do this – so we got in the car and headed for the hospital.

I had read about labor stalling once getting to the hospital – changing environments can be tough on a laboring woman (check out Ina May Gaskin’s “Sphincter Law”) – and it somewhat happened to me – but I got back on track pretty quickly and labor was progressing well.  I was at 5cm when we arrived.  I avoided the fetal monitors as well as I could and was upright, moving around, rocking in the rocking chair.  I tried the bathtub and didn’t like it – so I continued to labor on my feet or in the rocker.  I really shut the world out as labor started to get more intense.  Even though contractions were more intense – they were still manageable – I trusted my body and respected what it was doing to birth my baby which helped me keep my head out of it and to just be along for the ride.

I was certain I was getting close and I called for a nurse to check me – and when she did check me it hurt - she was very rough with me and it hurt – bad.  Soon after this encounter my labor really started to stall – I was in the rocking chair a lot and my midwife was encouraging me to eat to keep my energy up – but eating was the last thing on my mind.

We talked about breaking my water – at this point I was around 7-8cm – and I agreed to having the waters broken with the hope of getting labor really going again – all the stories I had heard of women having their water broken made transition come quickly and they were pushing soon after.  She broke my water and very little fluid came out but labor picked up a little – but the hope and excitement I had of being into pushing stage soon started to fade as the picking-up wasn’t as intense as I had hoped.

A nurse came in and asked me if I wanted to try the tub again for comfort – and I wasn’t aware I was able to be in the tub after having my waters broken – I was beyond thrilled and this time the tub was delightful!  It couldn’t have come at a better time.  I was starting to get worn out from labor and I needed something to make me comfortable and I did not want my comfort to come from drugs.  The water was working just fine.  A few more hours passed and it was time to get out of the tub to check me and have a chat with my midwife.  I was still around 8-9cm and the baby was still fairly high in the birth canal.  I sat and talked with my midwife and my labor had gone from 2-3 minute apart contractions to about 5 minutes and it was safe to say that labor had again stalled.  I had been in labor for over 30 hours at this point.

It was getting dark outside and we had the conversation about augmenting my labor with Pitocin.  This was one of the most difficult decisions of my life.  My labor was starting to be out of my control and my body wasn’t able to do its job and we agreed to the Pitocin drip.  Pitocin is awful.  It was the absolute worst pain I have ever had to endure in my entire life.  Contractions are like a wave, the intensity rises and then crashes away – peacefully.  Pitocin contractions are like hitting a brick wall, plateauing, then they are gone – and you are left bracing yourself for the next train wreak.  Not only are the Pitocin contractions unbearable – once you agree to it – you are basically strapped to machines and bags of fluid and the bed.  The only time I was able to move around was to go to the bathroom – and even then I needed three people to help carry me there (in case a contraction hit) and to wheel all the machines I was connected to.

My beautiful labor was gone – my body had given up – but I could still do this – I had to.

There came a point that I was so terrified of the next Pitocin contraction that I was shaking and my back was in so much pain from how tense I was.  My midwife offered a half-dose of medicine to take the edge off – I accepted – and I was able to sleep a little in between the devil contractions.  This went on for a while and on one of my trips to the bathroom I had the urge to push.  Things were looking up again – the room turned into a bustle of nurses and it was chaotic.  I wanted the birthing stool and as soon as I got in position the urge was gone – and it never came back.  I pushed for a very long time.  I was moved to the bed where pushing did not feel natural.  I couldn’t find a comfortable position to push and being attached to the monitors, and IV’s and who knows what else was not helping – then someone mentioned the word ‘cesarean’ and I got a rush of power – I was out of the bed – squatting along side it and doing everything in my power to get this baby out!  A nurse was helping me to stand and rock and she pushed down on my belly as I was bearing down – but still no progress.  I was in my “amazon” pushing phase for close to an hour and my cervix was starting to swell and what little hope I had of having a vaginal birth was pretty well out of my mind.  I still did not want a cesarean and I still wanted to do everything I could to avoid it – but when the cesarean conversation came up again – I had to give in – I was defeated – I was broken – there was nothing left I could do.

The nurses prepped me for surgery and my midwife got me out of bed to make the walk next door to the operating room.  I fell to the ground during a contraction – it was the very last thing I could have done to stall the few steps to the next door – but with the help of another nurse and my midwife I was back on my feet and entering the cold, sterile, bright, heartless room where my child met the world only a few minutes later.

]]> http://anewperspectiveperhaps.wordpress.com/2013/05/07/allow-change/ Tue, 07 May 2013 15:01:03 +0000 inspiretheworld2day http://anewperspectiveperhaps.wordpress.com/2013/05/07/allow-change/

This is such a simple statement but yet so hard to follow. I was just speaking about this very concept just yesterday. Why is it we allow certain patterns to continue in our lives. So many of us live in the confines of self blame and guilt. It holds us back, it kills our dreams. It stops us from doing the very thing that would make us happier. So what is it that holds us back? Oh yes, that would be me and you and everyone else you know that becomes a victim to our own personal laziness, lack of drive, or perhaps motivation. Well, this person writing this post does not want to enable myself to be a victim anymore. I need to stop talking and wishing and beating myself up and just DO exactly what it is to make my life personally better. No more excuses. That’s it. It ends today. Anyone care to join me in this challenge? A support system is key! And accountability. It starts today!

Sometimes the best thing you can do for your own good is delete people or remove them from your news feed.  Once you filter through all the garbage sometimes a gem shows up.  Like this picture:

  Now, I’ve been fortunate enough in my life to have people around me who told me major decisions or ideas I had for my life or career were good ones.  I had their full support.  So, in reality I can’t completely relate to the statement in this picture.

Let me rephrase the quote a bit.  “The greatest pleasure in life is doing what YOU say YOU cannot do.“  This is something I can relate to more.  And to me, that statement is far more of a reward than doing what people say you cannot do.  Oh, I understand the feeling of showing somebody you can do something they say can’t be done, but beating your brain at ‘the game‘ is a bigger challenge.  You can remove yourself from the naysayers, but your thoughts, your self doubts, your feelings that you cannot do something can follow you around and linger and make you bonkers.  You don’t always need to believe the little voice in your head.

You get the opportunity to show your brain and any negative thoughts that YOU can do it.  And YOU will do it.  It doesn’t matter what IT is.  Work, life, health and well being, whatever.

I’ve conquered my brain a number of times and will continue to try to do so for as long as I can.

The funny thing is these little mental challenges will show up for as long as you’re not pushing up daisies, and even then, who knows?

“I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self.” – Aristotle

I realized that they work for others and it works for them.  They make great money, they save and they have no children.  They travel and can do lots of things together.  They enjoy great food and drinks and being able to host others.

All those things are nice but they are not my life nor the direction that I want for myself.  I want to work for myself.  I would like to make good money and save some but I do have children and I enjoy them, most of the time.  I am laughing but I am also being real honest.  It is very important to me that my children see me happy and that they have a rounded world.  I do not want them to get hurt but I want them to live.  I want them to be able to play outside, regardless of their allergies, mosquitos, or the weather, within reason.  I want them to see that they do not have to work for anyone else to realize their dreams.  I want them to know that I will love them regardless of their career plans.

On Sunday, my brother made it a point to ask me if my son talks about what he wants to do.  I asked “like for a career and what college he wants to go to?” He said yes and I was dumbfounded.  I said that I do not push those decisions at this point and he got rather irritated with me and said “so you do not push him to think about his future?”  I did not argue with him but I wanted to say something about this being exactly why I did not want to move close to him and why I want to move away from our parents.  My son is 9 years old.  At this point, I know that he is going to work and be pressured for many, many years after he is an adult and I want him to be a kid while he is still a kid.

I have heard it said that you should never take travel advise from someone who has never left home and I am paying attention to the advice that I am receiving.  I have been home a few days now and things are sinking in.  I went there for positive reinforcement and I did not need too.  My plans are very different from how they live, so how can I expect them to offer advice on the life I want to live?

How could I ignore his pleas?
When he was so desperately
Reaching out to me??

The faux brother
Of a real fucking bastard.
Freaked out by this
Walking disaster.

“Evil,” he claimed.
And without disdain
I agreed.
And I shuddered from dis-ease.

“I’m sorry but I must stay free,
You know exactly why I had to flee.”
. . . “You cannot ask this of me!
Nothing I could do would make any of this easy.”

“Please,”
he kept repeating to me.

“I can’t possibly..”

“Don’t be scared of our family!
We all love you; it was he
That we wanted you to leave.”

And he finally described him to me:
“Like an apple that looked ripe and ready,
But to the absolute core, was wretched and rotting.”

From despair comes vigilance,

Haunting bides a freedom,

whereas betrayal singes wisdom with feverish asides of guilt and rage—

Hope ravages the empty space, with all things, either replaced or cursed.

Summoning unknown faeries, is a gamble in and of itself,

for none can fathom fully, the depths of sounds unpronounced

Dreams are but extensions of proclivity,

well mannered yet secretly craving a taste of blood.

As nightmares lose relations, a wicked tempest finds a crutch.

Here, the untilled soils sob within; upon those portent visions we once craved oh so very much.

Sorrowful reminders live atop the well-breathed air.

It is here, where intensity’s emotion applauds us well.

For endeavors often emblazon beneath,

flesh too sickly and where minds are too often too weak to speak.

Of the many masks in our possession,

we too eagerly extend ourselves,

for those concealing the scars held since birth.

A surrendering can be voluntary or imposed upon.

White flags or blackened stars; sunken eyes and swollen cheeks,

prove a tenet too strong to delete…

He who gives up, cedes the chance for relief,

returns the gift of breath once bestowed at birth,

often realizing the truth far too late; as the sands last speck is assured its fate,

a battered mind matches set to a bludgeoned flesh-borne plate,

…now senselessly bannered up by some worthless slate…

Win is a flatter
making one believe
he is greater
than all in everything
in wealth and powerful nature.

Defeat is a stature
pushing one down
into a departure
away from life
to a discomfiture

By a win
you shine gloriously
By a defeat
you forfeit demurely
making a difference.

Distant Desire (Photo credit: Dru!)

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While this is a difficult task for a variety of reasons, I feel it is now a pressing issue that must be addressed, or else we as an Arab people may face further humiliation, indignation, oppression, and eventually, complete elimination.

I do not know exactly why it is so commonplace for Arabs to have a distorted understanding of their own homeland, but I do know that this problem exists and that it has not only caused rivets between fellow Arab brethren — it has allowed for ill-intentioned insiders and outsiders to use it to their advantage. As the age old saying goes: “divide and conquer”.

What seems to be happening in the Middle East is a perfect example of modern colonialism. The brilliance of modern colonialism is that it is easily guised as an effort to “bring nations into the community of civilized nations” by imposing democracy, or I should say pseudo-democracy.

It isn’t much different from history though, for even in the past, individuals and nations together justified invasions and occupations through religion. The Americans wiped out the indians because they were ‘savages’. Europe did the same in Africa and the Middle East, colonizing nations and exploiting their resources.

The problem in the Middle East and in most places that are under pressure from the spheres of influence of bigger nations like the U.S., China, Russia and the European continent, is that it is difficult for nations to be fully democratic because they are easily infiltrated and penetrated by insiders and outsiders trying to exploit resources. Even in modern developed democracies like America, there are forces inside and out constantly seeking to exploit America’s wealth, it’s resources, and its values. Some of these entities include major banks, oil companies, lobbyists like the NRA and AIPAC. If even America faces constant threats to its democracy, to its protection of individual rights as well as its social community, why is it so hard for arabs to understand that a black-and-white transition to arbitrary democracy is irrational, unscientific, and if anything naive.

Before democracies can flourish in countries like Syria, Egypt, etc, there must be an establishment of certain laws, absolute laws, preventing abuses of power, politically, socially, and economically.

But you see the reason why democracy itself does not exist in the Middle East is not because of socialist regimes and baathist regimes that are seeking to usurp power and control economies. In fact, the governments of Saudi Arabia and the Gulf countries are more inclined to do such things under the guise of “Islam”. What better way to convince people that your way of life is right then to equate failure with burning in hell eternally. This is not Islam.

Syria is the way it is precisely because of the West — not because of democracy, not because of capitalism, not because of freedom. Certain actors in the West got big heads and thought they could take advantage of other countries that have not yet reached democratic status.

Ultimately, what I am trying to get at is that Israel is the remnant of colonial ambitions in the Middle East and has perpetuated the lack of genuine democratic development by staging a two year long farce of an Arab Revolution.

If Israel didn’t exist, there would be no apartheid government in the region, and a more stable Middle East could transition to democracy.

But you see the West is too afraid to grant the Arabs the right to self determination. No, if we grant them freedom they might actually make use of their resources and become free, self-sufficient, and dignified. No, we don’t want that says England, says Corporate America. We want Kings and Pseudo-Democracies like Israel (which is really just a colonial satellite guised as a religious entity in order to garner post-holocaust sympathy), that are bent to the West’s will and that will secure economic interests — namely, oil.

So before we begin jumping to conclusions let us understand that all people deserve the right to self-determination, and the only forces in the West that recognize that are the more liberal ones, which is why I am more satisfied with Obama being president than a Mitt Romney or another George W. Bush…

All I can say is that I pray that the Arab people will forgive themselves for getting too cocky and will accept the truth so that we may live a dignified existence, free from occupation, slavery, ignorance, and hypocrisy.

God grant me this wish.

A quick thought this morning. Reading about Joseph and the opportunities that came as a result of the difficulties he got through. My bible finished with the thought above – and I immediately thought of my career. About 8 months ago I sought prayer for the huge challenges I was facing, and the story of Joseph serving Potiphar and Pharaoh was given to me. As I was at quitting point of my job, a huge decision to make, I had a conversation with my boss about how I’d be much happier getting into internal recruitment and HR. Fast-forward through all the drama to now, and not only have I had the best 4-5 working months of my life in internal recruitment but I’ll soon be moving into generalist HR. Sometimes things take years and other times short months. Thank you Lord for turning my defeat into your victory!

A soldier, clad in a green overcoat and wearing a green felt hat, strolled over  the site.  He gave Katerine a cursory glance. His gaze soon strayed to other women who were less shapeless and showed more skin. Katerine  sighed with relief. She had dressed in a dull and uninteresting way.  It worked well, as long as there were others around.

She had given her teen daughter Emen the same advice. “Cover yourself. Look dirty and unclean. Don’t excite them.”  And every day she made sure to check the looks of her daughter.

The soldier walked up to a sprightly girl. An older woman moved between him and the girl. Other women  gathered around.

Katerine didn’t join the women, instead she hurried up towards a wooden shack overlooking the site, where the sergeant had her quarters. Katerine prayed that Nessa was in, as she usually was out exploring the city. She had showed Katerine and Emen her collection of pictures of places she had visited after her army had liberated them..

Emen had offered to show Nessa around. The sergeant had agreed and  had showered them with small gifts. Chocolate and canned fish. Priceless luxuries.  One day she brought roses, which had made Katerine laugh. “Only husbands and men wooing women give roses.”

Nessa had blushed, but Emen had said they were very grateful. She later berated her mother for hurting the feelings of the sergeant, who was the only protection they had.

Katerine  opened the door  without knocking. The sun shone through the shutters on the graceful frame of Emen sitting astride Nessa. The top of her dress was undone, and  her breasts uncovered.  Two pairs of eyes blinked at Katerine. They seem more curious then shocked.

Katerine  paused for a moment  and then, not knowing what else to say, she blurted out: ”There is a soldier outside bothering one of the girls…”

The sergeant rose quickly, put on her jacket and boots and rushed outside. She avoided to look at Katerine.

Emen covered herself, then joined her mother.  They looked on while Nessa  barked sharp orders at the soldier.

Nessa once looked up at them. She smiled.

Katerine recognized that smile. It had of late appeared more often.

“Isn’t she marvelous?…” Emen beamed. She grasped her mother’s arm.

“Well..”

“I know. It was a surprise for the both of us as well.”

“So she didn’t.., like..,  like, those soldiers do?”

“Force herself on me? Have her greedy hands all over me against my will?” Emen shook her head fervently. “She had no such feelings for anyone before she met me. That is what she said and I believe her.”

“Oh.”

“I had to push her,  Mom.  Nessa is awfully shy. When you laughed at her after she gave those roses she felt so bad that she almost cried.”

“Oh. I am so sorry. You would not think she is like that..” Nessa  had just kicked the soldier in the behinds..

“It’s a role. She outranks him, so she can kick him around. He would not expect anything less.”

“She once did that to an officer too.”

“She is a woman, she can get away with kicking men.” Emen laughed.

“So, you love her?”

“Yes..”  Emen said wholeheartedly.

“And she loves you…”

“Yes… Today I conquered the enemy.” Emen giggled, a sound that made Nessa smile. “And she conquered me”

“I didn’t know you had feelings for women.” Katerine said. ”Guess, it means that I won’t get to be a grandma.”

“ You might never know, Mom.” Emen patted her tummy,  kissed her mother on the cheek and gave Nessa the loveliest smile.

This is how a victim feels
But not how one reads.

If people knew what I’d been through
No one would believe.

I do not have a victim mentality
But I know when I am entitled to be.

When I have been battered and embarrassed,
That girl in the workplace poster “Harrassment”.

I know how I should be treated
And how I’ve been defeated.

It’s my fault for not pushing back.
For making believe that his will fell on my track.

When
In
Fact,

It was my track that his train railed over.

But perspective will make it better.

I had once,
A bad day.
And it got worse.
I wished for,
A good night.
And it got better.

Then I learnt to expect,
From the future.
The worst of times.
And the best of times.
The taste of defeat,
O! so bitter, so sour.
And the smell of success,
O! so sweet, so high.

That’s life.
An uncertain here and there.
Its lessons.
A little less and a lot more.
Thus to be learnt.

So I had once again,
A bad day.
And when it got worse,
I wished it away.
For a good night.
And when it got better,
I thanked life in delight.