Danny James

Tag: triumph

372

Here all things are temporary and regardless, whispers a tender perpetuity. An evolving infinity, constantly and quietly renewing itself. Thus, in triumph is there not some patient void? In trauma too, is there not a parallel perfection?

306

As far as anyone can see, there is suffering still and most of the good here lay unfinished. Our own knots at least are forgotten in the straining to release another from theirs, and so it goes on, the great untangling of our times. To recover beneath the coil an undisfigured society. The kind that itself heals from a trauma but with understanding, however whence it came. Hallowed be the few who toward disasters go. Exemplary citizens, of habitual constancy and who toil for none but a shared advantage as would only see its fellows rise to triumph over adversities of the soul. Rather than rejoice and march on to a spire still more glorious, will hang behind to render aid to the weary, the wicked and the lost. After all, we are all far away from something or someplace we shall all arrive at anyway at one point or another, and as ever we are all in passing and getting by as best we know. So we might as well make the most of it and where possible, give. While we are all here together above the dirt in high spirits.

298: The good life

Ah strain, it piles over. To triumph or perish. Live forever, in high spirits and digging always your way up, or lay down in the sand and be dust.

Do you not know, we’re in paradise?

It seems the blinking stars would only swallow the cries you never make, and so you forget while everything is sailing along calmly diligently. Until the day arrives that you discover at last you are standing at a chasm of your own making, and it asks with a bellow that dashes about the valleys and is gone, ‘who are you?’

It sounds remarkably like your voice but you’d swear you’d never made a sound.

282: Neil

And just like that it lifted from his soul and dispersed into nothing. Where heartache goes can no one tell, but in him was restored that tried and triumphant vitality he was so loved for. And that he was honest with his dismay, was his strength and warmth. Realising that he could have passed a lifetime in her stare but ultimately they were terribly needing to go different ways but too scared to go alone and not entirely knowing yet who alone actually was. Holding on, not each other.