Virtue

Photo Yuriy Kovalev on Unsplash

We rise, in the eyes of virtue

Every moment becomes new

When jewels of the past are gifted

It will leave the mind jilted

Virtue isn’t a temporary thing

Awareness takes flight on its wing

Hovering over the living present

The mind can’t match that ascent

Virtue does not have a grave

It remains a cradle of the brave

Truth, it fights in subtle ways

Far from the mind’s prying gaze

The search responds to one virtue

Accepting that gratitude is overdue

The moment, it decides not to leave

When the past isn’t sought as reprieve