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
writing in north norfolk 
Well I think you made a good stab at sorting out some kind of method to the madness 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would have liked more madness but it’s Sunday evening and my brain wouldn’t play!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Maybe later in the week when the madness takes hold 🙂
LikeLike
Well done Kim, my mother used to use that expression….
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know that expression too. I also remember a song by Man called ‘Many are called but few get up’..
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like that one too… 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh! So phenomenally glorious! 😎🌹🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Dorna!
LikeLike