electblue

Caught in the humdrum of everyday life, tangled in memories of the day's events. The faces flash by you, the sunlight collects itself and fades away, like a departing train. As the flurry of thoughts and lingering emotions wash over you, draining into the pillow cradling your head, waves of context seem to escape you. A dizzying rush of perspective absorbs you, drenching you in the moment. A silence fills the air, an eerie sense of the day sinking into the soil. Eyes close, doors to your soul slam shut. A mask of serenity covers your body, muffling consciousness. Incoherent grainy whispers crowd your thoughts. You fall victim to the

So simple, so powerful. I admire its relentless efforts. A majestic motion, contained within perfectly symmetrical actions. All guided by its very existence’s simple laws, Perfectly calculated, expertly timed. With a clear function and a persistent determination to complete it. Each distinctive tick chopping its existence into organized intervals. But perhaps most impressively, although every interval, every pattern, and every law of our universe conclude its fate of a dawdling decline into a motionless death, its persistence fights on; its unyielding passion continues to drive its purpose. Something I can only wish to understand.

It’s all about the journey! Not the destination. That's what they've always said... Since I was a child, that’s been the moral I've been burdened with. And I believed them, I let that single principle guide me. It’s a mistake many make. I've wandered the fields getting lost, without a road in sight. Sure I would see amazing things along the way, and experience the freshness of it all. Although in the end I was aimless, I couldn't pretend I was on a road anymore. What fool would travel years through fields and mountains, mud and deserts, a crazy man. Now who would do that while delu

A poem is but strokes on a sheet, yet carries an insight into our world. A poem is just black lines on white paper, yet brings an unending spectrum of meaning and mystery. A poem is but a single thought, yet it inspires and sparks a hundred others. A poem takes only minutes to write, but lasts forever.