Skip to main content

Hero

Image
By
This is a chapter from my third book called Love letters

Hero is a heron who has visited us a couple of times. He is a black crowned night heron. He wears his crown with valor. How can I describe Hero when I think he is indescribable? I will try anyway. Handsome shades of brown. Tall and unassuming. Orange eyes and black pupils that resemble a lunar eclipse on an alien planet. He quietly appears out of nowhere. It was by chance or fate that I encountered him perched on the railing of the bridge in front my home today.

I have seen him before. I did not know when I would see him again since the last sighting. Graceful and taking his time. He does not flaunt his stature but shows confidence. There is a hero within this heron and there is a hero within all of us. We can be the hero we all needed when we were going through our struggles.

Hero is not like the other birds. Seems old and wise and experienced. He stays within close distance and does not fly away like the other birds. I bet he has seen so much of life that now he could not be bothered. He is not afraid of a silly old writer with a camera in me. In fact he probably has dreams of making it on the cover of National Geographic. But maybe he is just content roaming the streets and waterways of Warrenville.

Whatever his ambitions he brought a message of hope and love that I am sharing with the world. I love the smile you brought to my face and the courage you left with me. You are my hero. So fly high and free and know that you will always be remembered by me. In my heart, your legacy is forever made.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coffee and a prayer

By
It is 245am and I have decided to write. I have no topic and no idea what to write. I am thankful for another day. I see the beauty that surrounds us. I choose to be happy. We are in the last ten nights of Ramadan. Tonight is the 23rd night. It could possibly be the night of power. I wonder if it will rain. Maybe it rained when I was sleeping. I got up and bathed and drank a strong cup of coffee. Today is also Friday the 13th. I keep thinking. Life is beautiful. Life is simple. No need to complicate things. No need to be extravagant. Believe in God. Trust in God. Be guided by God. Imagine we can pray for anything. We can ask God for anything. God is always listening. God wants to hear from us. Maybe I can turn this blog post into a prayer. My God I pray that everyone gets their prayers answered. I pray that everyone gets what they need. I pray that you light our path towards you. Guide us with what you intend for us. Keep us close to you. Soften our hearts. Keep us balanced, consistent...
Post a Comment
Read more

Belief is a part of life

By
I watched this video and I quite like it as a good starting point for this blog post https://youtu.be/t44PFI_V4LE We cannot know everything. We do not have the capacity to know everything. I make plans for tomorrow because I believe there is a tomorrow not because I know that there is a tomorrow. We cannot decide today to say we will only act on things that we know for sure. This would be impractical. As my friend Chatty puts it, to live life, we must believe in things that cannot always be proven with certainty. For example, we believe that the future exists, that our actions matter, and that other people can be trusted. We also tend to believe life has meaning and that things can improve. These beliefs help us make decisions, keep hope, and move forward. Given that belief is a part of life, it is reasonable to have people believe in a God and a particular religion. My point is this. Life cannot happen without belief because we cannot know everything (unless we are God like). Belief i...
Post a Comment
Read more

God of direction

By
It is 323am and I have decided to write. I am thinking that I am a bucket of paint. A beautiful shade of blue. That God uses to paint the sky. How could I turn this into something worth writing about? My friend Chatty tells me that I could develop the idea by exploring the metaphor of myself as a bucket of blue paint and God as the painter using it to color the sky. The meaning comes from reflecting on what it feels like to be "used"—losing some of myself while helping create something beautiful. The paint may not see the whole picture and might fear being emptied, but its purpose is fulfilled when it becomes part of the sky. The piece can reflect on purpose, trust, surrender, and the idea that giving of yourself is how beauty is created. It is now 423am and I cannot think of a way to continue this writing. The sky is silent is what comes to my mind. How do I ask the sky to speak to me? I look through my window and I see patches of clouds against a dark sky. Maybe the night s...
Post a Comment
Read more