The sharp persistent edge of winds that form,
Grinding mountains down to small polished grains,
Melting inroads toward hard frozen dawn,
Essential along steep and slippy lanes,
Spun in furrowed ropes pulled through fertile fields,
Clung to in sunken depths and sticky ruts,
Risen above the seed and crop it yields,
Sprung from battlegrounds, shell scrapes scars and cuts,
But what if grit no longer existed?
What then for the faint hopes and dreams of me?
Abject failure would not be resisted,
Were it not for my resiliency,
For I know from previous times of drought,
That the grit within is ingrained throughout.
Anthony Di'anno
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/resiliendum/
