FOCUS

Mirage – Polygon1993

 

I need focus.

My vision is blurry.

The world appears 

as waves,

forever moving,

forever changing.

No purpose.

No reason.

I need to know why

we are here,

why am I alive.

I need focus.

THE QUESTION

 

What is reality?

Do we see what is

actually around us?

Or is there a another reality?

A reality that we can’t see;

that we aren’t ready to see yet.

Will it ever come into focus?

Into a clarity that will reveal all.

The reason for our existence.

The reason for the world

as we know it.

Look closer.

Peer through the murkiness.

Find your own reality.

THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

 

THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

Life takes us on a ride.

A path with no guide.

A ride for no rhyme or reason.

A circle with no side.

 

A path deep into the jungle.

People passing along the way.

Traps to trip us up.

Lurking demons held at bay.

 

The end leaves us with more questions.

Not answered along the way.

A destination with no purpose.

No clarification for our stay.

 

Source:

THE QUESTION

What is reality?

Do we see what is

actually around us?

Or is there a another reality?

A reality that we can’t see;

that we aren’t ready to see yet.

Will it ever come into focus?

Into a clarity that will reveal all.

The reason for our existence.

The reason for the world

as we know it.

Look closer.

Peer through the murkiness.

Find your own reality.

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

The mind is complex.

It stores information.

It reasons.

But it’s also creative.

I see a butterfly and its shadow.

Did my reasoning or past data

tell me this?

No.

It was the creative part of my brain,

working on over-drive.

What do you see?

THE VIEW FROM ABOVE

cityneonlights:

The view from above.

People appear small,

tiny specks in the universe.

Cars are in constant motion.

Everyone is in a hurry,

going around in endless circles.

Going to work, and later

going back home.

Taking elevators up

and then down again.

What’s the hurry?

We all live the same lives.

We live and then we die.

Does it matter where we had

hurried around in between?

All that matters are

who we leave behind.

For these are the only

ones who will remember

that we had been here.

And why we had been here.