Sometimes I think life is layered. I peel back the facade. I see another layer beneath the politics. I peel it back and find an illusion over insecurities. I look beneath them and theres hurt. It becomes more transparent and through that there is a kind naivety filled with possibility. Possibly an innocence in passing. Below the layers life has built a simplistic sense of being that is often overlooked. For example: There John stood down the street moving so fast that we couldnt see him. He didnt notice the child like dream until it was too late or so we think. While lying on his death bed he looked back on how he lived. He did so without regret. Because while we were also busy he went unnoticed. You see there was a time where John looked at the stars. There was a time in which he dreamed just as children do now. Beneath his white hospitable covers his wrinkled hands fidgeted. He smiled as he looked toward a white ceiling. He saw a light. As he walked toward it behind him laid his clothes. A series of robes for each lesson he learned followed in his foot steps. Layer upon layer his path let him shed all that he carried. In the end all he had was joy.
Posted on: Sun, 02 Feb 2014 13:11:19 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015