Night Skies : Volume One.

dear existence

A young soul once hid away from the world,
to yearn, to seek, to learn,
to unravel existence.
above the distant stars and beyond he peered,
deep within his heart & his soul he delved,
with the soft pale lilies at dawn he reflected,
with the swift swallows at dusk he flew,
walked as long as his limbs could strain,
roamed as far as his imagination could restrain,
but proud & unyielding the answers did prove.
and relentless as the monsoon rains,
did even more questions gather and fall.

Is this nature's curse to man,
the sharp thorn to his flesh,
the torment to his earthly reign,
must he envy the little black ant,
as it selflessly burdens with giant lumps of ration,
as it intricately builds its imperial anthill,
of its eternal toil, for its queen.
such a tiny, almost inconspicuous existence,
tasked with a purpose so pure,
accorded its destiny,
its path to follow,
its reason to exist.

Thus many moons shall pass,
this young soul shall still sit still,
neath the shade of his beloved tree,
a short purple jacaranda,
watching its winged seeds fly off in the breeze,
off to the lonely countryside,
still uncharted is his path,
still uncertain is his purpose,
for existing, for being here.

( For all the times we sit still & think there's more to this, there has to be. We're too special for life to be this mundane.)

I do hope we all find our purpose. That one day we all find our peace.
Amen.