but few are chosen
in the symmetry and ritual,
the circle of life and death,
from the first gasp at birth
to the very last breath.
Fresh grass grows on mountains
through snow and stones;
saplings take root in graves
among crumbling bones;
new life and innocence
bring hope and vision.
Many are called
but few are chosen.
Kim M. Russell, 2017
A painting by Ferdinand Hodler, the title of which translates roughly from the German as ‘The Chosen One’.
My response to Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange microfiction challenge
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Well I think you made a good stab at sorting out some kind of method to the madness 🙂
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I would have liked more madness but it’s Sunday evening and my brain wouldn’t play!
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Maybe later in the week when the madness takes hold 🙂
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Well done Kim, my mother used to use that expression….
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I know that expression too. I also remember a song by Man called ‘Many are called but few get up’..
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I like that one too… 🙂
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Oh! So phenomenally glorious! 😎🌹🌹
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Thanks Dorna!
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