Virtue

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