Cosmic Dilemmas
The stars burned like the memories of
brighter days, light years away from when I now take my walk. Do they spell to
me a map of beautiful moments from my past or a future without? A dilemma
stands before us all in the guise of two roads not taken- A divaricate,
bi-forked future an only-seemingly simple choice that keeps us up days and
nights. Do we let go of our pasts or hold on to it and make peace with the
future, or do we hold on to both with what is left of a thin string, frayed at
both ends? None of us has the capacity to wait in the anticipation. The stars
have seen what is yet to happen and we cannot. These trials and tribulations in
life make us, and break us. We have no choice but to talk to the moon on our
many solitary nights together, as we take the walk and pause before the roads
in front of us and take none.
We live lives riddled with dilemmas,
problems and sorrow. And whom do we blame for these dilemmas that span space
and time? The Universe. We blame the indefinable Universe. Could we ever
possibly define the same? What really is the Universe, and what is Life?
What is the Universe but a swirling eddy of
moments and people lost forever in the blink of an eye?
Gone.
What is the Universe but a vast sandbox
surviving because of the entropy of dancing sand particles?
We’re dust to dust, them and us; chaotic,
but in peace.
What is Life but an archaic spider-web
perfectly spun in the riddled lace and taffeta of punch drunk love?
Oh, Life. It hangs on by a thin, thin
thread, trying to stitch up the cuts that time made on its’ arms.
What is the Sunshine but a handprint on our
hearts?
What is the Rain but these very crocheted
hearts coming apart?
The thread lies not in the hands of the
puppeteer, or maybe so. Break free.
The loose ends of the life you spun are to
be rewritten by you, we thread life up, and reel it in.
What is a Story but a beautiful lie; a
horrific truth; a beginning, middle and an end to the secret garden, stolen
books and arcane memories?
Volatile, yet liberating, eccentric, but a
thrill like no other.
What is Nature but poetry in motion?
The lightning, in its very psychedelic
nature sets fire to the menacing thunderstorm and blossoms into the bloom of
spring,
What is Luck but an unanswered wish for
fortuitousness originating from the depths of our unfathomable minds?
Poor Luck. Blamed. For us getting lost in
this dazzling maze of life, building living graves for our hollowed out
corpses.
What is the Universe but a treasure hunt
for a treasure that’s already yours?
Peter Pan searched not-too-far; the ticking
crocodile still awaits Captain Hook.
What is the Universe but sheer indefinable
beauty in all its mosaic jigsaw puzzle glory?
It may be incomplete and broken, but it is
beautiful and unimaginably perfect.
What is the Universe but You?
This post is really amazing! I mean, the words you've used are just spot on.. And the total effect is super awesome! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks a ton :) I'm glad you liked it. Means a lot.
DeleteThanks a ton :) I'm glad you liked it. Means a lot.
DeleteGreat thought process for a 17 year-old, wonderful use of words and language, superb expression. I don't know what you will be writing 5 years from now. Hugely proud of you ... keep writing ... its the best pastime and stress-buster that one can ever have! Lots of love!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. Means a lot coming from one of the best writers I know. Will keep trying to make you prouder :) Thanks a looot. This made my day.
DeleteThank you so much. Means a lot coming from one of the best writers I know. Will keep trying to make you prouder :) Thanks a looot. This made my day.
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