Petals on water,
Dancing to a new rhythm.
Trying to get by.
Bright day blues, challenges
And muse. Where ought I go, when
Even paths won’t show?
Quicksands of smile and toil,
Take away these muddling onslaught.
Transient yet far too overbearing,
Break down the inconsistencies; by part.
This first week has been bewildering in itself. And to think that we’re not even half way through the first month! I have been having all sorts of confusions. Maybe its in the air and with all anticipation overriding reason, I’m thinking way too much. But to not consider it would be an even greater folly. A direct admission of my inconsideration. Sometimes being real depends on the situation. I’ve come to believe that at the end of the day, my actions must be right by me, by my family. While I’d enjoy the freedom to say I don’t care, I do and that’s that. I hope things sort out by the end of this month. Then I can peacefully, smilingly welcome the next and the next.
Embraced the obstacles from the start,
Have I a say in being pulled apart?
While the lesser folks await the wilting
I must prepare for the ornamental suffering.
The occasional care brightens my day,
Little memories to uplift dismay.
They stare at me with such a tender glance
And with much the same bring an end, perchance.
Even in praise, I quake with fear.
Bless the Lord, don’t make me so dear.
Before a blink, one with the soil
How long have I lived for so much toil?
Value your existence, you do.
Extend some thought to me too?