A life lived in the margins is a safe and quiet thing,
But a heart confined to safety never learns to truly sing.
We chase the steady rhythm, the comfort of the known,
Yet the magic always happens when the seeds of spark are sown.
It’s the zest of new beginnings, the thrill of taking flight,
The sudden burst of color that illuminates the night.
The bitter of the challenge, the sweetness of the prize,
The fire burning brightly in a dreamer’s open eyes.
We need the stormy seasons to treasure when it’s calm,
We need the heavy sorrow to appreciate the balm.
To live with open arms and to deeply feel it all—
To find the hidden strength to stand up taller when we fall.
For flavor isn’t found in just coasting through the days,
It’s found in getting lost within the beautiful, wild maze.
So toast to every chapter, the struggle and the strife,
For the daring, unpredictable is the very spice of life.
© Frieda Norma Dela Cruz
