why do we let the tragedies of life blow us over? why do we insist on grieving for the past? why do we we despise ourselves for our mistakes?

why do we continue living in our self-induced shadows, afraid of facing life, when life, full of wonder and beauty, awaits just a step away?

life is beautiful; it really is; sure, it's full of pain, suffering and death, but that's only part of the big picture.

Life is a song; simple and enchanting;
its notes carry emotion that resounds through our souls;
it tugs; and pulls on instruments untangible; our heartstrings
echo as it sings through the melodies and harmonies of life;
we weep and mourn; as life's fingers pluck the strings of our hearts
unmercifully; unbearable;
we smile and laugh ; as the hands of time lift us up and carries us through unexpected and exhilirating trills; thrills that exhaust us;
and cause us to sink deep into the arms of fate;
its voice hums a low and sweet melody as we ease into beckoning Sleep;
and as we sleep; the voice resounds in our dreams;
and causes our souls to dance in rest.

Life is a painting; a classical masterpiece;
its colours vivid and beautiful; familiar to every soul that feels;
human eyes take comfort in gazing at its thick, strong canvas; one looks closely; and sees that it consists of darker shades;
sometimes small and insignificant; sometimes strokes so broad that it seems unnecessary and superflous;
those who think themselves too wise would critique and lash out; yet
there are those who like a child; would take a step back;
and smile; as the picture comes together before their eyes;
the lighter, brighter, pleasant parts would not be so emphasized
without the dark "unnecessary" and "insignificant" parts
critiqued by the "wise".

Life is a story; with an unseen beginning and end;
its characters know only their present;
not knowing their parts in another's;
the story of life;
written in an unread book;
witnesses the struggles and trials of those within it;
shares the joys and laughter; and feels the pain;
every sentence; every word; has a significance;
every action and every object plays a part;
each event and decision; and the time that its made ;
symbolizes; foreshadows;
fulfills a purpose.

Life is Beautiful;
Open your eyes;
Gaze at its wonders;
Dance to its Melodies;
and Play your part;
for what is there to fear?

When God is the composer; the painter; and the AUTHOR.

Only you can heal the past, live your present, and dream your future;

I leave you with one of my favourite poems by my older sister, Jennifer Gelar:

Life a flit

mortal choice,

a line writ.

Lost hope fills its page

scripts of life,

a dark stage.

Dreams lost, broken

high spirits-

now fallen.

A page, a turn

sum, reward

pay or earn

Oh mortal life,

overflows

with strife.

But Love Divine

rewrites

ev'ry line.