Happy November guys!
Recently I've been thinking a lot about time. Every now and then I get an overwhelming sense of dread and fear of time. How little we have, how easy it is to slip away. You wake up one morning and realise four years have passed. And, alright, you are making progress. You have made it from A to B. But so quickly, so obliviously.
With this sense of dread, there are times when I'm standing in the middle of my day and I wonder how I got there. How I got up that morning, how I'm dressed up and presentable. It's no struggle to get out of bed, or be present. My mind has brought me there, but my spirit has crawled behind.
To eleviate this evercreeping dread, I tend to go out of my way to be involved in life, filling up the calendar, making plans and projects. It's a routine, and it's pleasant. And I'm happy, because why wouldn't I be?
But sometimes, my spirit catches up. Paves the way and creates a gloriously lit path, and when it does I feel hope, curiosity, wonder, adventure and the closest I can get to feeling whole.
You see, the thing about time is that it passes whether or not you are watching. It passes second by second, minute by minute and eventually years have gone by and you wake up one morning and realise.
This next one is a product of the last few months. I've been going through the motions - sleep, work, eat, wash, sleep - and in the midst of it I have been grieving. Grieving for a man who I highly admired who passed away in June of this year. When I think of him, I think of the laughter, the emotional support, the honesty, progressionalism and encouragement. I think of a role model. I think of college and the years filled with him, and my heart breaks a little each time.
It's going to hurt for a while, and I know that. Perhaps time will mend the damage, or at least that that is repairable. Or perhaps, I'll wake up one morning years from now, no different than I did today.
The Man on the Pedestal
Staring motionlessly,
Your presence haunts the backdrop.
If they told me I would feel this turn,
I would not have felt at all.
Grim as my reflection.
Your signal gave me hope.
The words fell from your fingers,
And lit up my whole world.
You see there are worlds that shy away,
And yours has stayed afar.
No tall trees or medication.
Stolen of the dance.
For you to come back and resurface,
Is to light up the whole dark.
Are you ready to take your stand,
Back up on the pedestal?
22/11/2019
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