In a busy life of words and actions
The difficulty is observing in silence and discovering
What is recurrent.
Randomly bumping the elbows to corners and pains,
We leave a trail that tells our story
And passes often through points of significance.
Few points with value
Are like benches where to feel at home
And safely alone.
I shape myself
To be as steep as a mountain roof
Not afraid of snow or weight.
The storm is far
But only the strong
Will let the heavy rain slide
on their shoulders.
Routine and curiosity killed the cat.
After shouting questions falling in thin air
And donating uniqueness to a future not his,
The wise woman sits still and observes the decline.
A million scenarios run through his head
Some fascinating, some of no effort
And tickle his will of revenge
The rigid walls of a predefined career
Are easy to aspire to
And reassuring when thinking about the future.
Walls that delimit a job,
That Somebody else has designed
Are very high and the missing view
Is sadly breathtaking.
Your hand is small
But ready to open
to support the others.
Your head is messy
But quickly quiet when listening is needed.
Your breath is tired
But will run if your help is needed.
Not the only one, but often unique.
Not knowing the way or the mean of transportation,
Reaching the destination is hard,
But not impossible.
The destination will have full pink flowers
And golden glasses with joyful bubbles
And you will determine the situation.
Free to celebrate the small happenings
And ironies of life
You will recognize it.
Your destination like a nest
You have to build a straw at the time
In the cold winds
To be home.
Rescue me from a world of mutants,
you don’t see my beauty and my uniqueness.
Filled with potential here I lie.