Timeless Skies

Another weekend is fading fast.  Tomorrow returns the usual grind of common life.  Time rushes by as does water over a dam.  Nothing in particular was accomplished but that is not unusual.  If being content and somewhat lazy was revered, I would be King.  As I gradually fritter my life away on mostly insignificant pursuits, I wonder who I am and what am I doing here.

The Logical Song is a very truthful look at our culture.  When I was young I was so sweet and naïve
and from the moment I first went to school, all of my innocence was trampled on and destroyed forever.  So yes, I became logical, practical, responsible, acceptable, respectable, presentable but I hope not a vegetable.  The lazier I become, the closer I move towards being a zombie.  As an attempt to battle slothfulness, I decided each evening to read an hour of poetry and prose from a different author.  Last week was Keats, Yeats, Tennyson and Baudelaire.  I found it much more entertaining than watching TV.  The words written by these 4 incredible poets are astounding and so well crafted.
I am just slightly jealous, wishing I could have the skill and genius to write such exquisite words.
I try to think how to get out of the trap I am caught in and realize there is no escape.  For one with no exceptional gifts, the only solution is acceptance of the inevitable.

I used to hold tightly to my Daddy's hand and every night kiss both parents before I went to bed.
It was in some distant land.  I remember it and sometimes I long for that feeling of comfort, warmth and love.  Something went wrong.  Am I to blame or not to blame or a little of both?  The trials and tribulations of life were rough for a naïve, innocent boy.  I truly used to be a sweet boy but that boy is long gone, replaced by logical, practical, respectable, acceptable, etc.

 

Time is quickly running through my fingers on its ever present march forward.   So many fragments linger of both good and bad moments.  Is the secret to remember the positives and forget the horrid?  Or maybe learn lessons from the terrible times?  Why do some people seem to skate through life without a care and others get scarred from life's experiences.  Each one seemingly tearing another small piece of the soul and slowly suffocating existence.  I will ponder these questions as I wander the timeless skies, in the alluring moments, in my snug cocoon, as I drift into the invulnerable veil of sleep.