Victory is a funny thing. Bursting across the finish line ends the joyful competition and begins the wait until the next endeavor. Pushing for success drops my life off the radar screen. Power can propel me out of range, the center of my life overshot in and attempt to be a winner. I am stripped of my commonality in striving for singularity. Looking for acclaim leaves me lonely. The winner’s circle is very small, and while the flash explodes, the development shows I am now alone.
Curiosity and beauty are their own reasons.
Bride in a Bentley
Who determines your worth,
the one who sets your ransom
or the one who pays it?
Will you recognize yourself
once you have been bought and paid for?
Will your life exist upon your return?
How many times has the road and its inhabitance
taken me far from what I’ve known
and extorted an exorbitant remuneration for restoration?
Redeemed is what they call it when the price is met,
yet this might not be the feeling it evokes.
Deliverance is never 100%
and reclamation is not always possible.
So keep your mind free,
but know your own worth.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault