Immersed in the golden ray as I stood underneath the sun, my spirit soaked in the goodness of the will. The will of one I won't name but took my dearest who built me up. No more apologies, instead live on to the fullest to make him proud, my Father. No clues or compass to guide me, just persistence and drive, that kept me on with his plan each day, one at a time.
I won't know what happened unless I invest my whole gut into it. Each page, each word, each sentence, and what became of it on the friendly empty pages of my documents. I won't know the ending until I wrote it down and I won't predict the future with my work for it metamorphosized into art in its own time. My job was to fulfill its destiny and mine, through passion, worth, and effort.
My Father, my cloud of witnesses, had gone just a month ago, yet I felt his smile with each creation I made. Behest, the will of God, upon my life, I shall keep. It was for me to live and to work for. It was my destiny and with a promise to my Father, who had gone before me, I shall keep going.
Just write.