I Believe

It is time to sing.  It is time to write.  I have heard the words, and they have struck me motionless.  So vast in talent.  Perhaps you are a stone on the top of a hill, miles of sloping ground ready for action.  You are on the cusp of something wonderful.  Once started, there will be no stopping.  Your speed will grow, the power behind you will be crushing.  All you need is a push.

Yet, people simply look at you and pass you by, content with your perch atop the hill.  They are captivated by  how magnificent it would be to watch you, and an nearly insatiable urge burns in them to release you.  But they too are afraid.  Pushing you would surely change not only you, but whatever was in your path.  Being perched so high, perhaps hundreds, if not thousands of other rocks might also become dislodged.  That thought too intensifies the burn.  The desire to see it fulfilled.  They put their hand on you, start push, and then stop.  They back away with trembling hands.  Too unknown, too dangerous would it be.  What if you simply break apart?  What if the glory of your task is never realized.  It is one thing to push a rock near the bottom of the hill, but the top?  Too much is at stake, so they leave.

Well I am not afraid.  The burning in my chest is too great.
Most people try to push, and are simply too weak.  They cannot but nudge you at best.  They can give you no reason to move.  Their hands are unknown, and untrusted.
This is me pushing.  I want to see what happens when you start to roll.  I want to see it.  It burns within me.  Perhaps I am too weak, my hands too untrusted, and out of place.  I don't know.  I just know I want to see you move.