At the Edge of the World

007

Bittersweet, alive, empty confusion.

What do our daily days mean?

Our daily ups and downs,

our duties, to do lists.

Our ways of keeping us busy and in a hurry,

but engaged with small things like

what to make for dinner, E=MC2, the face of a clock.

Making sure we don’t lose things, forget things,

miscalculate things, mis-communicate things, or misjudge.

Making sure we see ourselves growing, progressing, discovering something new.

Distracted with our game, our art, our masterpiece,

our little stage with props and characters,

sights and sounds,

and the millions of details bouncing in our brains.

But distracted? Distracted from what?

What else would we rather be doing?

What else is more real than our simple ways of

playing, engaging in the world we have constructed for ourselves?

It’s a different place and eventually,

little by little, the noise,

the details,

they shed.

Until all we have is

sand,

wind,

timelessness,

the sound of trees.

It’s always there and it’s always waiting for us,

at the edge of the world.

And we will always see it at the right time.

Comforting, surprising,

a wild, blue ocean below our swift moving clouds.

It makes us question the dissonance

between silence and sound.

But the noise is comforting, it’s familiar,

it’s home like your dog whining at 7am to go for a walk

or running to catch the bus to get to work

or a child spilling juice on you when eagerly telling you a story.

At times we get stressed, resentful but

in a subtle, pervasive way

we may actually enjoy it.

We may even feel that subtle,

deep, contentment in the noise and busyness

as if we’re at the edge of the world

but also living in it.

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