The Act of Being Kind

Some claim life a mystery.
A daring force yet to awaken.
I blame all hypocrisy for what it mocks to be mistaken
We all are unaccomplished souls.
Wanderers by sight
Yet in us rests a tale untold.
It's brimming with white light.
In truth, we are without excuse to share a kindred heart.
The real unknowing of this proof is when we ignore it from the start.
Life is still a mystery, though it's not to be untold.
The grandest of all legacy is when we realize what unfolds.
For there, awaits a beating life.
A blood flow to our yearning.
I must admit that I've had strife yet cast it out with burning.
In love we find our meaning.
In grace we find what for.
Yes, some claim that it's all seeming to only shut another door.
I tell a revelation.
I share it with such pride.
What we make our celebration will reveal how hard we've tried.
Relying on the fruits of good.
Providing love beyond the mind.
Now we all have understood.
It's the act of being kind.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem