The One Hundred

So, 100 it is then.
That is certainly an achievement.

It must mean the coming of dawn. The twinkling of a new chapter. A new beginning. A new start.

It is night now and I'm writing in the dark.
All I have are images in my head of what the dawn will bring and the new possibilities of the long and fruitful day. Night has been dark for so long now. It is easy to become scared and rely on false promises.
I am tired and easy persuaded.

I know that seeds of hope are planted in the dark. My life and happiness are proof of this. I once stumbled through the dark. I sat down and gave up. If it wasn't for the care and light of others, cold and there I would be still. I have seen so many people remain in times of bitterness. They say they emerge stronger, but they recreate themselves into a cold and half a person of who they are destined to be. They refuse to be hurt again. They put up walls. The close the door and the windows. I do not want to be that person. I am not that person. My strength comes from my brokenness. I am strong because I am weak, I am able to comfort because of what I have been through. I was planted in the dark. I grew. I am blossoming and soon will be my fruitful time.

My passion today has grown and been nurtured. I want to put flesh on my words, I want to experience the sunshine heating my face, I want to breathe wind that caresses me and turns me and fills me and fills me and overflows with such joy that if I wrote for a thousand days it would only touch the surface of what it truly feels like.

My words are like music to my ears, with each letter a note, each word a tune, each sentence a melody, each paragraph a symphony. I want my soul to pour out and give life to the life I have.
My chapters have been full and inspiring and at times difficult, but now is the time.
It is the time for me to say yes.
It is the time to leave behind yesterday and welcome today.
It is time.