One Hundred and Fifty-seven
And so on a day much clearer
air not muddied by time and trial, the tide in its rhythm, when seasons come and seasons go, children grow without fear, tears are only those of joy, then, perhaps, the world will no longer need Aikido, for its mission will have come to fruition. But the days of many are not clear air grows stale in many ports, the tide laps not gently upon all shores, and seasons, while coming and going as always they do, do so in ways seeming sometimes capriciously malicious; children do grow in fear real fear born of troubles they neither understand or should have to care about, and tears are more often than not tears of pain and grief. The vision of the Master has yet to come to pass, though but a drop of rain in a vast hollow, enough drops falling will fill the hollow and create a sea. The promise of Aikido may yet see the light of a day breaking upon a world unfettered of strife and conflict born of fear. (Original blog post may be found here.) |
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