Then the second, third, fourth NO,
Successive loud resounding NOs,
So many I lost count of all the NOs,
They were not walls that made it impossible for me to grow,
They were nature's compass to re-calibrate me towards paths I didn't know,
I sank and sank and sank and dug deeper and deeper until I hit rock bottom low,
It was my only chance to ever hit those precious treasures buried very low,
When I let the failures go I could see where I needed to go,
Away from countless many foes,
Bringing a welcome fluidity to my flow,
Every once in a while there was an unwelcome snow,
Which made me go a little slow,
But no matter what I kept going so I always had some progress to show,
Through adversity I learned to deal better with all the curve balls nature's bound to throw,
Every once in a while I knew the exhilarating joy of rising like yeast laden dough,
And somehow on these redirected paths I met my beau,
In the heat of the moments I didn't know the NOs came to make me grow,
So focused on the disappointing pain I was not open to know,
Thankfully I found the grace to tell the distracting despair No,
Maybe this is your season of NOs,
And they make you very low,
Remember that sometimes to mine the precious gems we need to dig very low.
Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary
