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I follow one dream, I take a holy oath to help anyone in need of help regardless of race, gender or religion, to clean my body of sin and purify my soul with light. I wrap a thread around my wrist to remind me of humility, my oath and of a silent whisper between me and my Lord. I lift my eyes to see His magnificent glory, and ask for faith, wisdom and light.
Only then do I start to understand Mother Teresa’s words describing “the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” I carry a spear and a shepherd’s staff, marching naked in fields of thorns. My slashed feet answers the cries of thirsty land, and red flowers and roses sprout wherever I walk. Those who recognize the Shepherd’s staff in the hand of a humble servant shall follow; and vicious followers of darkness shall be pierced by the blessed spear of His warrior. Dreams may touch reality, and may not. Charity and love both dictate sacrifice; but a man’s sacrifices are subject to the condemnation of life and society. I march across life chest exposed; true heroes fear not pain, and if they fall they fall with their chest pierced and not their backs. But only a fool could forget that a woman’s spear is so much different than the enemies’. Carry your sword, take many or none down, fall in battle, and be remembered as a hero; love a woman with all your heart, more than you love yourself, fall and be rejected, and you will be remembered as a fool. I am in love with hope, and hope to keep hope beating within my heart. I have won myself by winning a dream-to-reality, and I am a fool who enjoys the bitter taste of love, of a dream that may explode, and tear my heart to pieces. |
