Forces to the pillow,
limited by the coffee table,
I can only plan and evaluate risks.
Mistakes can appear and solutions jump right up
in my mind.
Excited like a young puppy,
i have to stop my hands.
They will run free soon
if not in my wild lab dreams.
The fire is fed with ideas and pushes
By exploring the unknown land
Of a white sheet of paper.
But today I stop.
The rain stops me at the window.
Tears on the glass limit my action.
I will breath and consider,
Let my mind surf and dive
Navigate and sit still
Enjoying these days of inactivity.
Escaped from the lab coat,
Devoid of ask analytic tools,
I dive into the garden
And let geometries of leaves
And flying perfumes surprise me.
They narrate a story
Written only for me
That will take me away
For the most precious moment of the day.
I throw my mind
Over the wall using a single hand
And wait for the bump.
If was searching for novelty,
It might have found it.
What is new is still hidden
And i can only excite in its imminent rise.
Mind will tell me,
Among thoughts of routine,
What I could not imagine
and get thrilled for
Only few days ago..
I pull myself away
When i am attracted to the surface
Of event interpretation.
The visible tells a simplified picture
My mind and heart want to believe.
Investigative analysis and questioning
Come from my science core
That deep inside
January drives me to the unheard truth.
What tickles my mind
in this dark winter day?
Worries of career, fears of loneliness
This undetermined future of ours
Join forces and seed doubts.
I drop my anchor
In the small achievements in my wallet
And those tiny ideas shining in the dark.
Add a stroke of pink to your writings
And a curl to your Ts and your Is
When the window is closed
and no escape can be found.
The head down on the white paper
Can imagine a world of fun and flowers
Even In a grey cubicle.
Untouchable and at limit of believing
I force my breath down
In this difficult theatrical living.
It swirls, it warms, it takes,
Attention and proportion.
The sun hits your back
While standing in the gray yard
Waiting for the cigarette to end.
Thoughts of acceptance
Of an uncontrollable wild reality
And their daily rejection
Free space in the mind
And in the day.
The distance you cannot measure
Keeps you locked and bound to the ground
Like a chain of steel.
Kilometers of memories and nostalgia
Unroll reach moment
Their loving faces emerge
From the corner of thoughts
To be able to go on.
Questioning what is right
And the correctness of a situation
Is no recipe for rest.
No meaningful sleep comes
From thriving on troubled waters
and cloudy days of the mind.
I am starving today
For those warm afternoons running in the fields
And those silent evenings reflecting on a book.
Food for the avid mind
And food for the temperamental belly
Do not overlap
And are complementary.
Squeeze your mind
In the bright day
and observe the drops on the table.
The red line of your everyday
Is condensed and finally clear.
Dried it leaves your successes behind.
The regret for those ideas
Of brilliant impact
Testing on the sofa
Of lack of equipments
And of lack of time
Takes my sleep away.
Today I moved then
From the sofa to the corridor
Ready to go out
And get tested open air.
I live the paradox
Of being tired by sitting
And being bored by data plotting.
Refusing the surrounding drama
I enjoy my own thoughts and daydream
With my mind as a private cinema.
Travelling through the rain
And wishing a quiet meaningful future.
As a self cuddle available everywhere,
Even on the train.
The spark is back in your head
And the fall of ideas is now unstoppable.
The heat is up
In your body afraid for so long
And reactions are quick
Like instinctual impulses
When the enthusiasm is back.
Your talent cannot be lost
But it will always come to the surface
When you feel good being yourself.
Waking up with a question mark
Killed the rest and dreams of the night
Tortured by the doubts
and excited by the possibility
Your hands find no stillness
And tap and tickle
Until a list of steps in made
And the final is an answer.
Your life is in lists and islands of knowledge
to jump to and through
For a quiet certain conclusion.
Curious like a weasel
I find my sneaky way to experiment
The hidden question
In the back of the mind.
Curiosity keeps science alive
And gives its players the rules
While moving always the goal.
Hiding and chasing
Each day is a step
While the direction forms at the horizon.
In order yet creative
The lab is the room
of chaos that turns into logic.
It might not be apparent
But its order lies in knowledge
And develops along the evolving ideas
In the mind of the scientist.
Crispy air of the winter,
Tickle my cells and frees my ideas
While my hands race my intentions
And type wild on the keyboard.
My neurons giggle
at the thought of closing the chapter
Of harvesting the touch grains
That costed me so much
Yet fueled my enthusiasm.
Thank you winter
For refreshing my views
And my perspective.