writing
A Poem A Day #188: Winter
My Poem “Make your own bed”
Some things in life will always be out of our control, some things in life will always be out of our reach - but some things in life are completely ours to do with what we will... some things in life will always be a dream to aspire to and to be inspired by, some things in life will always be as ephemeral as a cloud in the sky - but some things in life can open both doors and windows within us and around us that can make us literally leap on through to a world of something that once seemed incredible and unobtainable... some things in life are just meant to happen, some things in life are just meant to be, some things in life are meant to have a plan - but there are some things in life that are a matter of we shall see, because every day we all interact with a world of people and things of infinite complexity and often times comforting predictability... some things in life we need to know everything about and some things we can comfortably live in the dark about and in a state of deniability... some things in life we can leave for others to do, and there some things in life that we cannot say - but there are times when we must do some things, and there are times when some things have to be said... sometimes you have to clean up the mess you have made, sometimes you have to do your best at setting things right with people - including long lost family and friends; but no matter what has been said and no matter what has been done, as long as each of us realize that though there are times when we can leave some things and some people alone to eventually become what and who they are supposed to be, there will always be a time when each and every one of us have to make our own bed because no one else can do it for us.
A Poem A Day #187: Ultrasonic
A Poem A Day #186: Ink
A Poem A Day #185: Man in Black
A Poem A Day #184: Night
My Poem “Forty one”
Who would have thought that at the age of forty one I would be back here, like a message in a bottle washed up on a beach, back to where it all began, back to square one... who would have thought this would be my life - still looking, still learning, still believing, still falling from grace whenever my feelings get the better of me, still a part of a multi-layered and multidimensional game that ultimately cannot be won... who would have thought that someone could do so much, that someone could feel so much, that someone could meet so many others - but still able to find themselves waking up and asking themselves: did that all really happen, or was it all just a dream? who would have thought that with all the knowledge that someone can accumulate over a life that they can still at times feel lost for words by new mysteries... who would have thought that my journey through life would be like that of the path of a cyclist within a velodrome - going around and around in a constantly repeating circuit - or like that of a man in maze searching for the centre as well as a way out... who would have thought that I would still find a reason to smile while witnessing the first light of the sun... who would have thought that every day I would still be surprised by the world, by people, and by myself - here and now, at the grand old age of forty one.
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