I stand on the brink of a great revolution, in sight of my fearless progeny. This journey leaves me breathless, my mind quivering, my soul reaching, always reaching, as I wait for it to cross my path, like thunder striking the lonely traveler, a I charge to search it, the willful collision of a starving man and a happy feast.

This quiet revolution of mine does not yet unfold, but it waits in the depths of my mind. And I stare, unblinking, quiescent, as it unravels before the eyes of my future, and I stand, I wait. When it comes it will not find me unprepared; my early child will be met with the spears and guns of this trade. I will face it as awaiting parents do, and it will conquer me, consume me, and I will be left breathless and exultant.

31 August 2012

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