It is easy for one
To yearn for incredible highs,
To only be pleased by such moments;
Or to be devastated by lows,
To teeter at the edge of death,
After the heart is pierced through by thorns of despair.
Only such peaks and valleys
Seem to be highlighted,
Like the lighthouse’s beam amidst the fog
That is the monotony of daily life.
It is easy for one
To indulge in fantasizing,
To be consumed by the achingly beautiful dreams
That come to mind,
For the mind is like a legendary bird -
its flight is without bounds
While the body remains spiritless,
And the acts repeat themselves,
Like playing a video,
In infinite loops.
And so the only way out,
Is to upgrade the quality
Of the slightest endeavors,
To appreciate the small thrills,
For the majority of life,
Is spent on the process.
For when one thinks about it,
It’s the baby steps,
The tiny amounts of persistent effort,
That eventually lead to the ultimate One Piece.
Or wait, rather,
Have we all been mistaken,
Is the gold actually in,
These little supposedly mundane moments,
Which, like the letters of the alphabet ,
Together constitute the masterpiece that is the story of our life?
