The Morning Always Comes

From the hills of Calabria, Italy. My journey has led me to this ancient land. I don’t have the answer why.

That scares me; am I missing something? I miss my family and friends. I wonder why I’ve left. There are other people who are hurting unbelievably.

Why is it that this world is full of pain? Perhaps, so that we may see the light.

In the darkest night, I don’t know how to face the world alone. The questions I don’t want to answer, or don’t know how.

Sometimes I just want to surrender.

The need to be more than I am.

But the sun always rises in the morning.

We mustn’t be afraid of the night, but see that it too, like the morning, is beautiful, necessary, divine.

The night makes us what we are; it inspires us to seek the light. So we look for it in stars. We look for it in one another.

We look within, where we don’t need eyes to see, and find it in ourselves.

The morning always comes. The pain will one day fade. Just keep going.

Let your heart shine wherever you are, even if it hurts. It hurts more to keep the light, the pain, and the beauty which comes from letting go, in.

How to let it out. How to let it go. Just watch. Listen. Feel the ground beneath your feet. Feel your every heart beat, that precious thump which is the greatest gift of all, the fact that we’re alive.

We’re all broken in a way. We heal through each other.

The wind blows from dusk to dawn, as the river never ceases flowing. Its rushing sound replenishes my soul, bit by bit.

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