Saturday 27 September 2008

Panic - a drabble

I start to panic. I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone ten years from now. I don’t know who or what I am. Am I a good person, or even a nice one? How many opportunities do I miss every day? My pulse quickens and my breaths come shallow and fast as I become overwhelmed by the vastness and insignificance of my life in the huge, unfeeling universe.

What if my best days are behind me? What if I haven’t made a difference?

Then he puts his hand on mine and smiles at me, and I’ll be alright.

1 comment:

  1. Hello Anna,
    It's been quite a while, but like I promised to you, here I am, once again going through all the beauty you manage to create with your words.
    Yes, he always puts his hands on you, on me and on everybody. His infinite love and his grace is always showering on us. But at times, the problem is such, people tend to close the lid of their jar and themselves cut themselves from receiving his eternal grace.

    Love,
    CoolDeep

    ReplyDelete