Scattered Thoughts.

What would it be like, I wonder?
to do over, start afresh, begin anew?
Pack up, leave
and land
where everything is different;
every stranger a potential friend,
a language so deliciously exotic
You want to speak
all the time?
where a step out of
your home
could be the start of
an exciting adventure?
of doing everything again for the
Very first time?
What would it be like , I wonder?
to frolick and run singing through
The meadows
free from
fear for your safety
From the need to apologise
For your faith?
I wonder what it would be like
to retrace the steps
of your childhood
When the colours were sharper,
The smells sweeter,
and the stars brighter?
to live with wide eyed wonderment
and curiosity;
to have spring in your step and
joyful anticipation
Of wonderful things yet to be?
Wouldn’t it be
The perfect crime
to drop everything you are
to leave everything
behind
For the paradise
You know you can have?
what would it be like, I wonder…………?
Photo Courtesy of the inimitable hash.2016.
Go check him out on Instagram.
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I Saw A Man In The Street.

I saw a man in the street
Bird nest hair, half clothed
Dirty, bare of feet.

Knelt upon a puddle
Green, murky with gnats
In go his hand
To quench his thirst.
It’s not the last the time he will be doing this
Neither is it his first.

He smiles and then laughs
At jokes only he can understand
He listens, joins in
Conversations only he can hear
With friends only he can see.

It was almost upon me
To look upon him with pity
Then I took another look
A look with my heart at this city
Reject; invisible even to those who see.

There is light in his eyes
A genuineness,
So he is a ‘madman’ in our view
But there is integrity in his stance
infectious is his happiness!

He is unanxious about inflation
Unbothered by BBI
Unconcerned about corona
Undisturbed by debt
Unencumbered by enemies

He wanders from pavement to side street
Laugh-mock him if you want
He bends to pick a shiny thing
Discovers what’s at his feet
He marvels at this and at that
Little pleasures
You and me have forgot.

Tired, he sleeps wherever he falls
Step on him spit on him
He is himself without walls.
Unguarded unafraid
Responds to his spirit’s calls.

So who is mad I wonder?
He who is unabashedly human
Unworried, raw
Or you and I
Running away from
Being so?

 

Photo Courtesy of Pixabay.

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