Today's poem is a conversation with the voice in my head. Maybe yours too.
Alright, poem starts in 3… 2… 1!
It feels like sometimes I'm all over the place finding my tempo, finding my pace. Twisting the dials, turning the knobs, making myself do the oddest of jobs. Dipping my toes in the grandness of chance, learning the rhythm and dancing the dance. Feeling the vibe and building the hype trying to figure out what is my type. It feels like sometimes I'm all over the place, probabilities in an infinite space, seeking new data, numbers, and words, building in my head some colorful worlds. Holding the weight of adventures so new. Running away from the sparse and the few. Chasing a whimsical bouncy red ball. Maybe not knowing the point of it all. So what do I feel when I look at my face? While feeling like sometimes all over the place? And what do I think when I'm doing these things? How far along am I spreading my wings? Is there a reason for making it so? Is there an outcome I chase as I go? What is the point really of all this work? Is there a benefit? Is there a perk? Umm, probably. I don't know? What can I say? It's like you're asking me why night is not day. Why planets go round and why water makes sound, why things can be lost and then sometimes be found. It's nature, you know? It's the embedded script. Reality's ocean is meant to be sipped. For what it contains is a treasure so rich, so I end up going for all that I wish. From lunches to dinners, and nights with full moons, I'm surfing the waves and I'm surfing the dunes. The reason I go on these far-reaching jaunts is - by nature, curiosity is my default. I'm curious to find out the limits I'd break. I'm curious to know how to swim in a lake. I'm curious how I look when I am about, and curious about the things I've lived without. By nature, curiosity is my default, I want to know this world and all of its thoughts. I want to know how people go 'bout their days, 'cause all of this input helps shape me my ways. You're right though, there's difference in structure and play, in living with purpose versus disarray. The question that you really ask with this rhyme is - how am I using my limited time? Yes how am I using my limited time though, as days and weeks and months come and go? Is time* not the enemy? Passing me by? (*finite in character, knows how to fly) Or is there a link that is missing somehow, that I cannot see in the moment of now? Is time* just an enemy? Could it be more? could it take another role in my life's lore? Could it be *a weapon when used with resolve? *A tool with which life's own equation gets solved? *A series of boxes in which I can plan, the things that I might and the things that I can? If that is what time is, and it could be true, I could use its power for things that I do. Creating a future that I'd like to live, inspired by gifts that the world likes to give. By nature, curiousity is my default, but instead of thinking - oh time has me caught! I'll learn how to use it, to wield its true power, and learn what's the meaning of minutes, of hours. Spontaneity, whimsy, discovery will live, but sometimes, I'll pass them through time's finest sieve, and hopefully someday, I'll wake up and find, that I've made a new friend, and its name is Time.
That’s it! Thanks for reading edition no. 202 of Hello Universe.
Today’s poem was one of the longest I’ve written in a while, so no Some Fun Stuff today.
I’m curious to know - what are the conversations you’ve been having with the voice in your head lately? Share your thoughts with the Hello Universe community in the comments below!
That’s it for this week, see you next Tuesday!
Time is precious! ...So much to do and so little of a precious commodity called time. We are here to learn...and as long as we keep learning and sharing...and helping to elevate the consciousness , of all...we have a reason for being.
Time is really tricky thing, if you use it wisely it's infinite, & if you waste it,it will slip from your hand like sand . Day by day depth of your writing is improving, keep it up 👍