Legends are born in the quintessential ethos
of intrepid hearts in sacrifice and victory,
ascribing to exaggerated states of heroism,
and in the Chinese whispers of boundless souls
in gratification of stories as yet untold.
Running becomes flight, strength becomes might
and giants fall as men, when legends find
the tongues of storytellers,
and as moments become hours, one step a leap,
one cannot keep a legend contained.
As we need heroes, we need impossible feats,
to keep a sense of hope in our upright keep,
so we can believe in ourselves,
see impossible as just another bridge to cross,
and regardless of loss, a victory to celebrate.
Legends are born to let imagination run,
to reach deeply into our indelible core,
find where bravery can claw its way up
to save the day, and in realization,
give us reason to push on, to stay.
No matter how farcical the story,
we allow ourselves to believe, to hold onto possibility,
before reality robs us of our promise,
and leaves us staring life in its unwavering face,
its grace somehow in waste of our loss.
Legends are born out of intention,
the details perhaps lengthened to suit the tale,
yet bravery stands alone, the foundation,
of those who need to know that we can win,
regardless of our sin, we can be better than we are.
And those names of the few,
who have become legends in time’s view,
still resound strongly in our hearts,
their deeds manifest in all our dreams,
and their names the echoes of a long standing purpose.
Legends are made,
embellished and intentionally grandiose,
for a valid and valued purpose,
to give hope to the masses and in service
give faith to the downtrodden, the meek and subdued,
to aspire to be a legend too.
Tony DeLorger © 2018