I feel the turning once again of this world on which I stand.
I feel the steady cosmic motions and ponder if it is planned.

Do you stop to think, as I am on occasion inclined to do.
To speculate if plans and turning are meant for me and you?

So short the time we witness the revolving of the world.
Seemingly too short a time to see purpose in any plans unfurled.

Do you know a faith that assures you of what tomorrow brings?
Or have you come to question any meaning in religious things?

No one has ever truly known if it was made to turn for me or you.
I know the world keeps turning endlessly no matter what I do.

The flow of time and its expanse argue against a mortal plan.
At least in terms of one centred upon the species we know as man.

Why so big and why so long and why be here at all?
Why believe ourselves important when we so obviously are small?

So short the time we play our piece in what a plan might be.
And so far the plans horizons... too far for our small minds to see.

And yet my mind is caught in the fact that we are small...
Why something seemingly insignificant witnesses or thinks at all?

8:47PM

Why is life worth more than death? Why is life more important than death? Why have we deemed death so bad? Does it get its negative reputation because its unknown? Because it's different ? because it's not something we can dabble in? We value life and despise death but without death life could not be. We exist because of life & death. They are one not two. We are scared of death because we are unsure of it; time ,time is a concept created by us to a sense of organization a sense of control in our lives. We do this for the future, we work , we study, we save , all for the future. But when is the future? Will it ever come? When will this utopia of a future end? How will we know when this future has come? We live towards a future we work for a future , we believe we have time until the future. But what if the future never comes? The future is the biggest lie life tells. The future is nonexistent. The future will never come. And when we are in our deathbeds we regret not living because we were supposed to “live” in the future. But the future never arrived and death came too soon. We accuse death of ruining our lives but did we ever live? If we spent our time working for this lie of  a future we never got to live in the time we did have. We merely survived. Should we stop surviving and start living instead? Should we give up our focus on this utopia of a future?
From childhood we have been condition to live life for the future. As kids we start imagining , planning this wonderful future. But for many that future will never come. They would die before they got to really start living-

Now I remain a polished stone
The river coursing around me
In soft and easy contours
Yet my life was not always known
By this harmonious flow

But craggy and rough, long ago
Struck ten million times
By rocks and sand and more
My smooth and glossy skin, I owe
To turbulence and tumbling

Even water alone shaped me
By sheer endurance and patience
Grinding and wearing
Turning me into what you see
A smooth and polished stone

So wonder not that you feel worn
And feel struck by blows undeserved
Count this for a purpose
For with the tossing you are born
A smooth and polished stone

A distant 'something' of fleeting promise,
Ephemeral as the fading dream
And yet, as certain in its
Tentative inevitability, does my
Life forge its way evermore.
To know I am heading to a place,
But not the truth of my destination,
To be a part of the living
Is also to be made
Into an unwitting traveler, forever grasping
Around in the hazy, dark light of time,
Passing by, adrift,
Ultimately juxtaposed into 'choices'
I am 'forced' to make
To live
To learn
To change
To just...be.
Into the crushing unknown do we
All find ourselves trudging alongside.
And for all that mystery,
All that wonder,
Every doubt,
Or question upon question,
I've found my compass; nothing will deter me now.

Sometimes i wonder
What is this circus
Who are the players
What are the rules
How
How do i become a part of it in the day
And if i ever get detached in the night
when the joker stops smiling and goes back home
Sometimes i wonder
What is real and what is the facade
What am i and what trapezes they want me to pull from
Watching silently
As my instincts fade in between
In between the lights on and the lights off
Sometimes i wonder
What my heart thinks
What is taught in the circus
And the gap that traverses within
And then i wonder
Why
Why and how is that gap so huge
So huge that i cant find the ends of it
On searching all the recesses
This empty huge gap
Between what my heart thinks and what is taught in the circus!

I have, throughout my life,
often been beset with a sort of
sickness,
a longing located
deep within my
shoulder blades for
wide white wings with which
to fly high away
from this world
and all it's little troubles.

Never before have I been so
afflicted than as I sit
in view of the world's walls,
these wide wild mountains.
It is as if I cannot
bear the thought
of being unable to touch
something so much greater
than my self.

Wary of the worth of a moment in mortality,

consider this from

everafter. This
now
right
thought, breath of fresh
heirloom memory thread for ever more,

for what a measure of attention spent here
is worth, in terms of how we
spend hours predicting next tic
of being being us humans, wait, we or us, is
there here an ob-sub
top-bottom,
in-out
on
emerging dis-asterisk-ic fawking aural tic

me-chanical, i can-icles,

grinning like a fool, without the fool's feeling
seeping to the surface.

Each fool may take for granted hearing ears,
I say I think is true, so
I let it be true,
I believe.
y'know.

--- Leave me say, I had help. At the unbelief stage,

--- in old age, I mean, being dared to pray,
aloud
so all may hear. In 2019, that's louder than any Muza whatchallah
minaret con
cinco de-ift instancio
todo dia

WHAT LIES DO I BELIEVE?

First, I believed I knew what you believe believe means,
as an activity
we manage.

So, an answer,

it seemed, but there are all manner of unaccounted for
idle words, piling up to critical
mass

Each word ever formed to hold a meaning fast for use in futures,
past the edge of
our bubble,
dear reader, ami Am I ity or enmity --- Can't your Great Mind Requiring

Proof Positive Points Pretend?

Good, let's pretend to be.