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Worth.

the quiet transaction

where the essence of being human

is offered up.

Not for silver, not for gold,

but for something less of

a breath of perceived advantage

What is truly lost?

A quiet knowing, perhaps,

of those

a core that slips away.

Of me

Yet, the promise remains,

structure ahead

Abidence

positive progress mapped in neat lines.

A good investment, they say,

But look closer at the blueprint,

The criticism of a sudden

Mocking words

What's the boast, about

Is it

What

perhaps,

a fear,

Doubt it

Though it built

Against the emptiness of knowing less.

Gained possibly

A brittle confidence

An the outburst,

Of unearned certainty,

Of dis burden unclaimed

Pretending it has wings.

But the ground around remains,

Solid, waiting.

The air still carries the scent

Of things progressed

Now unlearned, mysteries unsolved.

Stay low. Let the surface noise dissipate.

Your task is not to shout back,

Not to mirror the taintedness of

Societies hardships

So Breathe the air of being

An

The abidance

by selfless winds,

Absorb the present moment.

Soak the knowledge,

Not like a sponge forced under the tap,

But like dry earth accepting a gentle rain,

deeply, humbly.

The Uncertainty,

That

Often rides the currents

By selfishness

Of its own making,

Fueled Darkened by

the density of negative

thought,

A self-imposed gravity.

May think

When you witness this levitation,

This buoyant, empty pride,

Do not engage the current.

Observe it as a distant storm cloud,

Powerful in appearance,

But external to your steady center.

We abide here, within the structure,

The architecture of our own making,

A growth

, millimeter by measured millimeter.

The wisdom we maintain,

This quiet scaffolding of understanding,

Becomes the inner bar.

It sets the standard,

the word

Each earned

An insight,

each

quiet conversation ,

the moment to moment availabilities

That Adds

a beam,

a strong joint,

To the self’s

growing frame.

And in this building,

Self-characteristics emerge, as gifts

To the self

Within

Traits to nurture,

tend to each with care

To teach one, is to solidify one’s own knowledge.

It is to walk it again, more firmly.

And this leads to the quiet question,

beneath the noise: discovered

A path

cultivated

Is the light meant only for the single eye?

Else meant eye truly survived the light

It is for no single one

For all

To know one, the context of

another’s being, and of hue

World

It is to lend strength to the whole connection.

It shores up the weak points,

Validates the shared struggle.

On this known level,

This plane of earned self-worth,

We are seen, we are understood.

No judgment from one to another need linger,

For when we know the weight of building oneself,

We recognize the equal effort in every other soul.

Known, and knowing, we find our grounding.