In life voids are inescapable... I tend to despise voids - even to fear them, for each takes a part away from me; the resulting self presenting incomplete, fragmented - portions of the portrait blurred or colors faded; re-painted scenes added over time failing to capture the intensity of pallets lost? Gradually I find myself doused in despair as realization dawns: Pieces of me gone forever and as the future becomes ever my present yet more are deemed lost irretrievably?
These sudden thoughts drained all the color from my face. Eyes shuttered. A tune playing in the background, evoking less apathy, more positive activity, a brief glimmer of - was it hope - and then flash!
I found myself standing on a cliff edge, the sun dazzling with brightness I had never seen before or sensed, yes it felt so real, sunlight shedding lustre over my existing voids? Tears fogged my vision and the whispering winds keeping me company murmured and echoed... 'You can never be whole. You can never be whole'
A harsh truth to accept: Not to be whole again - at least never within this current self. And the strangeness of it all! Such a glorious day and this self drowning in despair instead?
Seeking the sun again, my eyes caught something else: Clouds; dazzling formations presenting myriad possibilities. Was this a new perspective or was it ever-present but invisible to the daft me: Ungraspable visions igniting once imponderable thoughts?
Notions that had me in them, yet not me? The past could never be re-written and there was no escaping voids there to begin with but this didn't matter suddenly - what mattered was that which I still had and what I longed to have - for there never is an end to one's dreams and never will there be?
The road to my destiny still to be paved; the path ahead framed only by dreams and possibilities yet to colour the scenes. Abandoned hope returned; no - even better - it was reborn in me!
I opened my eyes and looked around; noting with interest that reality had altered - just like that.
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Chasing Muses (#Wattys 2016)
RandomTimes when I end up chasing a few musings and times when few of them just bump into me. Poetic prose? Random Pondering? Not too sure. Only thing I am sure of though is that these things needed to be written, recorded for there might not be a second...
