The Beauty of a spirit

The beauty of a spirit hidden or revealed is the strength to stand to adversity while moving everyone with the thoughts and feelings of love.

 

If I were to ask how does one develop a belief, I would be told of the idea, I would have to judge the idea against what I am, I would judge the idea against you and what I see in you. I would have to weigh this idea against the things of me that I share rarely the inside thoughts of me, I would have to see this idea work even against the things you wish me not to know. I would read of this so I would know, I would search for this so I could see this idea.

 

A formation of a belief, is work, a challenge or it would not hold its strength.

 

A spirit cares not of belief.  Revealed or hidden does a spirit act.

 

A spirit has no place to go for it has been no place before, it has no shape, yet its measure can be seen, it can be the smallest of things traveling in the space between the fabric of time, yet it can be felt by many as one or by none.

 

A spirit is a voice a symphony, or a lone cello playing, it is the sound of children playing.

 

A spirit is a sight, that glance of curiosity, an achievement with all ones might or the shadows of the night.

 

A spirit cares not of plight.

 

A spirit will not fight.

 

Like a steady hand does a spirit push, it gives thoughts, feelings an endless supply if our lives should we miss a love, deep within each does it grow, from the moments of cuddle of a child to the hands holding of a life filled with pride.

 

Does a spirit move with love, It can explain our need of each other. From the high school prom to the waltz of aged togetherness does the spirit dance, from holding hands to the thrill of that first kiss, to the nagging just to be near, does a spirit exist.

 

To some a spirit will be seen to others hidden as if a dream.

 

And I laugh for me I’ll dance with the spirits hidden yet seen.