Haste not be made, I value the
silence in this swamp of sweetly strewn
surrender. I navigate the trail where many
persons sunk into the mud. I can
clearly keep my footing through the muck
others have only attempted to trudge. It’s
ignorant to recall the trials within the
story of me, a man now unafraid.
Persons can either lionize or demonize the
spirit one derives from heartache, and for
others to recall my falls will remain
bitter. Ask if it’s possible to honor
yourself with triumph. God rejects the big
plans you made to meet Him halfway.
Humble I remain as I submerge deeper.
Time has made this a plethora of
affairs and obstacles to clear. All the
trickery in the touch of the leaves
is amusing to me. I have no
ideals regarding whether I could rise to
heroism. I earned the stripes and badges.
Yourself? Can you see or feel my
affection? Can you open yourself to the
love of nature? Can you forgo the
disenchantment as we move to the tall
grass waiting for our toil and levity?
Years ago, I was just a naive
youth who was barricaded within the vast
misfortune of my efforts. My realities were
imaginings once. They were a respite from
loneliness. It was a concept to realize
discipline is needed. You need to prompt
yourself to never fear, but brave elements.
Universe: a community of various types of
stars, whether ethereal or on this Earth.
Here, I stand to tell my story.
You are my first choice, as I
should leave myself open to the process.
God almighty, I would cross the depths.
Be it sand, mud, or slush, my
aspirations are of my making, of my
soul, of my desire to be loved.
Dreams, now realities I release into the
world I’ve grown to appreciate. I am
cheerful that I’ve traversed, I aim for
happy media, even when I sink deep.
-Jack M. Freedman (Jacob Moses)
Published in Marias at Sampaguitas (2020)
Published in “Hope: An Anthology” (CultureCult Press, 2020)