We can only console others when we ourselves have felt the pain and overcome it.
You gracefully crossed the slippery path.
'Cos you hoped to see dry land across.
Dreamed of green pastures; not desert sand.
You calmly walked through the dark night.
'Cos you hoped for the light shining bright.
Sunshine meadows; not scorched land.
Yet hold on; grasp your grip; keep moving on.
The scorched land and the desert heat are but a phase.
Bright are the green meadows if you would advance.
Remember, a test always comes before the treasure.
Priya
© 2020 Angel Writes
