our lives are sometimes ruled by inertia events occur because they were set in motion years ago and we chose not to stop going in what we knew was the wrong direction such decisions leave the bitter taste of what if lingering in our thoughts especially as we grow older gradually slowing to a stop
so here we are standing in the middle of the road not sure how we all got here but i know this doesn’t end well some people are busy on their iphones or ipads others wander off the road for awhile traveling or working on one thing or another but everyone returns to the road i must admit available time has not until recently been a factor in my decisions and i suspect the rest of the folks on this road are the same otherwise why would we all be standing in the middle of the road
hands move in set patterns part of the industrial complex at day’s end hands move to navigate through dangerous byways and city side streets at journey’s end hands move in ritual patterns to consume substenance and liquid anesthetics to prepare for the rest cycle but before the rest hands move to a set pattern to request divine intervention from the set patterns
like everyone
in
middletown
he arose early
and
grabbed
a quick bite
before
heading
off to work
his assignment
each day
was
to
draw perfect circles
in
the sand
with nothing more
than
a willow rod
in
his hand
none
of the circles
were perfect
and
those that
approximated
perfection
were quickly
washed away
by
the tide
one would think
that
discouragement
would soon set in
but
he always accepted
his believed fate
and
day after day
would return
to the same spot
on the beach
and
repeat the task
until
he
was washed away
most go through their lives following a prepared script then come the last lines with surprise the last act’s read though now they want to ad lib lines must be read as written
random fragments of your life are scattered around the floor of your conciousness as you shuffle from one thought to the other they become less coherent your past becomes indiscernible from dreams and nightmares nightmares that soon envelop your days so your days become indistinguishable from nights now life as you had envisioned it is forgotten only basic survival routines exist your movements no longer have any real purpose other than to sustain in an unpremeditated manner the dreams and nightmares
our time empties out there are small perforations in our existence that go unnoticed as we move through our daily routines excused away by us all until it’s too late that’s the point when we reflect upon life’s meaning and the arrival of death as it moves ever closer consuming all our dreams we rationalize that we have had a good life questions still remain what about that afterlife will there really be judgement eyes close praying for sunrise
what seems important
in your daily life’s routine
isn’t always shared
as being that critical
nature seems to ignore you
because you’re just part of life
staring
at
the bottom line
a developing
life
pauses
followed
by
the
usual questions
regarding
purposes
paths taken
and
numerous scenarios
of
what
“ifs”
none
serving
any real purpose
just
a
preprogrammed
academic exercise
like following
a clearly marked path
to
the edge
of
a cliff