Lead Was Always Gold

A child is like a flame. That’s why all people go to them like moths. They are vulnerable. They are beautiful. They see the world through a fresh pair of eyes. As we grow older, we become those moths. Looking for the flame. Searching for the next flame that can light up our existence a little more. Until we cover it up with our own darkness and watch it fizzle. It’s like our desire to touch the light overcomes the light.

And that’s why, we just keep looking for what’s the closest. A drug. Some love. Art. Adrenaline. God. It’s all an attempt to touch that flame.

But when, through some magic, that flame is ignited…

To look through a childs eye.

To taste a single drop of water.

To find the pulse of creation.

To feel.

To touch.

To wonder.

To believe.

To hold on.

To hold on for dear life.

Just hold on.

Just hold on.


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