The spring of a new day spells hope. I vie to make this breathtaking moment a trophy for my day. It is never easy for me. Being present takes great effort.
I survive each day with a smile. The events of yesterday lay somewhere in my lucid mind. Some days I recall peering into nothingness. The mirror. Ah yes.
My life has been colourful, a kaleidoscope of illustriousness by middle standards. Ha! Many have told me I have a good life. Indeed. Growing up in the seventies in this part of the world, blessed am I. I will never deny. Really. I come from a respectable family. Granddad was a third generation tycoon from the East.
And so we get by with tales from my grandparents about the pre-war days. Dad and Mum shared their experiences about the Japanese Occupation and blah, blah blah. These age-old stories are now chapters on me. I seem to have locked myself in. Drifting, drifting away. I wish I could be more present. It reels when I try too hard. I am happy. I know for sure I am.
I am standing in the garden. Daddy waves to me to move to my far right and I recall I was jubilant. What happened after was I was carried off to the doctor's for nasty ant-bites on my swollen right foot. An injection was needed. Flashes like these come and go. I lived. I relive moments in the sea when I float in oblivion; bathing freely in the rays of the sun. I miss those days.
These days I am rudely awakened by my own image. Oh how I have moaned and groaned. I had hope to join Peter in Neverland. Every child's dream. But Peter never came. Tinklebell was never seen. I hide and tunnel my way into my innermost being.
After probing and listening most intently to what has been said in TED talks on "The Beauty of Embracing What you don't know" I must add I have never been more bewildered and in a state of awe. And you get all these people with all these talks of how this and that are and the like, what about? It is a beginning to an never-ending search of who we truly are. Some say we are spirit. Some say we are much more. But what significantly hooks us is the mystic. No one knows. But we feel set free listening for hours on end. It grips us in the core. I don't know how it does me this round. But I do perceive things so differently this day. My eyes peeled. Untamed as I am, I do long for order and all things organized. I will forever be free-spirited. And I realize being in a state of no-control long enough transcends me into an abyss of calmness never before experienced or grasped. I am enlightened to a large degree to come to terms with my ignorance and incompetence.
By and by, another day
- Written by Zany Lynn
- Category: Poetry
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