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Hoppípolla

por: josef

12:09AM

july 27, 2008

I stand alone.

Life in its simplicity couldn’t explain

the webs and tangles that involve moving forward.

even the purple elastic tangles that

enslave any adult-size problem,

but are weak less against childhood

strength and ingenuity.

It takes no energy to remain still,

but not moving is a decision not worth taking.

Light shines at the opposite strand of

my path, if to call it chosen or merely an

option.

The sound of my feet as they stomp the ground

quickens the beat of the notes of escape, of

returning, of going back. To die and see

life rush on by, but to live and see it

slip away. [A fate worse than making a choice]

Tears dry; drops of my sorrow well hidden

make the ink slide. For falling of the ledge

is the only way to be free.

The wind rips away tears, regret, fear, all

powerless against the rapid descend.

A life full of thoughts.

Rush of leaping to what isn’t known,

what waits.

On the edge of the life someone wants,

after passing near misses, jumping fears,

and embracing a new fall, a new room,

a new being.

For it’s the choices that

lead us to pockets full of happiness

and dreams worth dreaming.

To those who fear a new future, may

your heart lead you to more than

happiness in a pocketbook.