They say that the world is reducible to four elements.
That everything can be translated into mathematical equations.
And that love is just a chemical reaction.
But if that means we have to believe in everything we see, then I’ll prove them wrong.
Because there is no way to breakdown a touch and no equation that could solve the looks we share.
There are a million elements that go into breathing un-breathed air.
And I know that there are things that are better left misunderstood.
Like the stories echoed back and forth between the woods.
And the way time flies like shooting stars in the night sky or how dancing in the rain always seems to soothe some sort of pain.
There is just something that shouldn’t be explained about the connection between a mother and daughter or the sun’s reflection on the untouched water.
There should be no definition to the secrets shared between friends or how the world is going to end.
We aren’t supposed to analyze and interpret the silence after a fight or the meaning behind an untied, flying kite.
There is no reason to decipher what creates the color blue or the heat of the sand underneath you.
There can’t be anything rational about tears of pure joy or all of the things we’ve destroyed.
It’s impossible to teach a heart when to skip beats or words when they can speak.
Because beauty lies in the unknown, held by the hands of things that are better left alone.
Those hands are what create the empty spaces and unfamiliar faces.
They leave us mystified and misty-eyed.
Their fingertips are the ones that give us goose bumps and raise the hairs on the back of our necks.
They drive us crazy and wild and most of all they remind us what it was like to be a child.
When our eyes were open wide to the shape shifting clouds in the sky searching for answers, and every single last one of us were dancers, painters, singers, dreamers, and believers.
But time has stripped us of our innocence and filled our minds with ignorance.
Forcing us to see things that should not be seen and saying things that should not be read and convincing us that we can explain anything before we go to bed.
So I wonder what that leaves us when we close our eyes.
What will happen when we’ve taken out all the mystery of the night sky, when we’ve calculated and concluded just how many breaths it takes to fall asleep, when we’ve found and sold the exact chemical that will make our knees go weak?
Where will we imagine?
Where will we create?
Or are we no longer allowed to decide our own fate?
Are we doomed to hell because we’ve fabricated heaven?
Are all our dreams bound to lead to dead ends?
When will we close our eyes and believe in the things we can’t see?
When will our hearts set our minds free?
It is time for us to leave things misunderstood and comprehend that living with unknowns is good.
Once we take back our innocence and throw out our ignorance the world will finally make sense.