We wonder what the future brings to us, expecting platters of silver and gold,
Such metals, precious, shine none without the rays of the sun, now so old,
Now have this thrum of energy sounding, music that means to push and pull,
The tides and the seasons, and all the will of man, to contain, now null.

We measure cowardice by the failure of tasks, the dauntless, we praise,
Eyes glistening with hope that these men at least, may let nature’s head raise,
With forlorn yearning, no, but pride, without the prejudice, as the days of yore,
This history of ours, to recreate, and live vicariously, to forget momentarily the gore.

So we treated, owned, and *****, all that we lay eyes on - claimed ours.
And now that this planet is done and dusted, with nothing more to yield, it mourns
For a respite that we cannot help but give, for what use is a lump of gray rock,
Without sweet sin, once green and blue and colors myriad, we draped in a dreary smock.

We send them out to scout, to find new ways to plunder, and regenerate, the daring,
All these resources, all this wealth, for why would we need gold platters, it holds no meaning
Devoid of air to breathe. And so we fashion the very fabric of existence,
To prove once and for all this is a species brimming with persistence.

As man takes his steps yet again, one by one, in another planet to make ours, expectant,
Gaze a million survivors’ faces toward the nether, hope abound, victory reluctant,
We hear echoes, “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”, all abound,
The future of this race of ruin, yet again grows roots, to fashion into a brave new world.

So many things
Are easier said than done
And maybe there's where
Half the fun lies.

We yearn for simplicity
Yet refuse to see
The bigger picture,
Demand results
Without doing the hard work.

As all the good things are,
Yours to decipher.

What do you do
To fill the silence?
To paint the blank sheet
Of a life awaiting?
I shout, I splatter buckets
Of the choicest colours
And yet there's no vibrancy
When the world is in greyscale.

Myriad colours and patterns flash before my eyes,
A movie of sorts, fireworks,
And I see happy faces and sad
In the mind's eye
While the real one slowly closed
And my world is darkness.

The fun about puzzles
Is seeing an entire mural
Come alive
One piece after another
Connecting ends
And patterns-
That seem not to work
At first glance.
And maybe life is only all that,
A series of universal coincidences.