Borrowed Light

Most people, if not every individual, are lost in some respect; questioning, wondering, and wandering. I, with the Grace of Allah and the big heart of a doting father, have been priveliged enough to make a degree out of the voice that makes us all human; i am a philosophy major. I strive to be light-hearted so that i can drift with the gentle Breeze that is the Soul for a heart gone heavy suffers stagnation. This rigidity renders it deaf to the Whisperings of the Breeze and it but sinks under its own weight. One intune with the Melody riding the Breeze is he who has learnt how to fly without the gift of wings. And the serenity in this beautiful flight elevate the heart to the greatest heights, leaving this world behind into a realm which impatiently awaits its welcome. I do not claim to have visited these great heights nor do pretend to dwell in the heaven therein. However, i have, as i'm sure have countless others, had several incomplete take-offs. I carefully use the word incomplete for failure would not be an appropriate substitute. A heart has only truly ever failed when it no longer tries and a heart grows utterly cold only when it shuts its doors to the warmth of the Breeze which flows unencumbered still; like the land that by the earth's own rotation causes darkness to envelope it, depriving it of light and warmth which are the very ingredients required for life in it to flourish. And as the Sun retains its station and loses naught of its Glory, but it is only the earth that turns its back to the Light that suffers loss. Even in this darkness are there not stars as the most beautiful of guides for all except of whom refuse to look to the sky?