Days born of music, and of silence. Dawn and fervor, newly-wed, promised me a day. People, rushing like a beehive, trembling, like atoms, myself among them. At noon, power overwhelms me, the sun – ever present, taken for granted. Later, a heaviness in my feet. Exhausted, expired.
I perished in the night. Stripped of ambition, I ceased to exist. Perfection was reached, not a detail could be added, to make today better, and from it, nothing could be taken away. Time wasted carefully, borrowed, unrepayable. To be relished.
Balance, slow down. Speed up. Fundamentals, simple moves, elementary – building blocks – a decision, an action. Trickling drops of color, in the bowl of life. In divination, I peeked beyond, to see them all dance.
What blessing would you want if you could catch any? Myself – a moth in my hand, brilliant wings.
Exactly what I asked for.