Unconquered Lands

I am speck in time

connected by moments pinned on a board.

As I watch, the string hangs,

disentangled from the past.

In my mind time plays like a black and white movie,

a distant memory.

 

Waves of longing no longer crash into me

instead, sputtering up to where I stand at the shore

as a reminder.

A brief encounter with what was,

the ocean of experiences is now open for tourists

and I am its first and most frequent visitor;

reminiscing in its scenery, hesitant to dive into its depths.

 

The beach that is memory lane is never far.

Some days I make the drive

but others, I turn away and go home.

Choosing to look at all that’s in front of me,

I see myself as a whole;

a little bird stuck in a forest of trees,  

surrounded by endless unconquered lands.

 

I stopped longing for the water

when I flew home.

With a distant feeling of weightlessness and

something bittersweet,

my vacation goggles are off, stored safely in an old shoe box.

The chain breaks at last;

life renewed, larger oceans to be discovered.

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the Roots

i look back and i see the shadow of what used to be,

and if i look forward i see all the different versions of me.

as the night sky changes, time freezes.

past me and my music tastes,

past me and my vocabulary.

 

little things remind me of what is different

and what is not.

above all, they show growth.

deep down, nothing truly changes;

the roots are buried and there to stay.

with experiences, their weight shifts.

 

in all the whirlwind of life,

time may stop for memories

to come back, to be revived and relived.

things that once held my heart and clouded my head,

all buried in the ground; visible once peeled

beneath layers upon layers

of the created self.

 

once the playing field changes,

a new beginning looks down

toward the roots

for guidance.

all that was, resurfaces.

the ants and the weeds

all float up to the ground in plain sight

showing what life was once like.

 

past capabilities and personality unfolds.

after every changing moment,

the self makes room for a different version of that,

an altered version

all connected by one growing seed

and its massive rooting system.