:: jotting the lines ::

Walking, wrapped within my own world
Often looking where I shouldn’t
Hence, blind to where I should

Occasionally stopping to bend
Inhaling sweet fragrances
Mind soothing, each content moment

Brought to unavoidable changes in the road
Surprise is not a proper defense
But quick enough to jump in

All too soon, there’s a shattering
The resulting turmoil unbearable
While vast amounts of time creep slowly

Finally, finally from within
Still wrapped in a cocoon of raucous muck
That which has great potential, shimmers

Though not completely formed, it does exist
Fleeting images of higher truisms
Glimpses of what rises above the down below

Knowing one day that the soaring of butterflies
Already thrilling, is so much sweeter
When holding the memory of just crawling