How much of my life I have been sleepwalking
How often I have wandered blind,
eyes glazed, body stiff, heart closed.
Or stopped still.
Searching desperately,
but unable to see anything around me.
There was always a world out there.
Watching, waiting, changing.
Passing me by.

How much changes before you
while you’re not looking.
How the planet breathes,
how the earth is alive.
How many tiny creatures surround you,
when you thought you were alone.
Each day passes.
Didn’t you notice the sun rise?
The sun set, the full moon filling the sky,
illuminating every creature lurking in the darkness?
And in the deepest, darkest night,
Didn’t you feel the cool air wash over you?
The silky black cloth draped daintily, clinging to the planet,
like a soft goodnight kiss.

And the wind.
The wind.
How incredible to feel the full force of the world upon your skin.
Humbling, alive, electric…
how you once defeated me.
Made me feel useless, weak.
You had the power to show me my inability to hold my place in this world
because I thought I had no place.
No voice.
I was unsure of everything.
But sure that everything
was against me.

But didn’t you see the cloud drift silently across the soft pink sky?
Didn’t you see that everything changes
in the blink of an eye?
While you were sitting, wishing it away,
waiting for life to pass you by.
While you were sitting at your desk, behind your counter, staring blankly into this box, that box, this screen, that screen,
As if entwined in a trance, a nightmare, a long forgotten dream.
How often I have let the seasons pass me by, thinking life is stagnated,
Trapped in this room and that, checking,
controlling, yet feeling controlled,
out of control.

And how simple it always was,
if I were to open my eyes.
I could see there is no one else marking this path for me
I create my own
Destiny. Whatever that is, whatever it isn’t.
It is mine, and mine alone.
With my eyes wide open,
My heart bursts and breaks,
again and again.
And both are welcome.
Because now I am alive,
where have I been all my life?

Published by


writer, musician, artist, joiner

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