Verse

Up there

The things I reach out to.

In the other realm

Birds made of feathers,

Made of metal.

That graze the skies

Serenading the blues

I wish to take a swoosh

Defying gravity

Going about, looking down 

And letting out a laugh

At the mirage that it is, 

The illusion, the deception 

The Laugh in question

Is to acknowledge 

That I am an idiot - 

By choice.

That I partake in the parade

Knowingly, with full consent.

Now, isn't ignorance a ticket

To some slack?

I neither have  the ticket, nor the slack.

Awareness they say

Even when paired with ignorance

Is a virtue.

(Ah, there goes the vicious cycle again,

The urge to defend and acquit the culprit.)

I look up to let in

And the 'let go' when I look down

Waits patiently in queue.

I don't have forever

That should be the message on a sticky note

Displayed conspicuously

In my eye span.

Reminders galore

Up there

The grazing branches of trees,

The little critters buzzing in the morning sun

Promising the light of the creation.

There's a vast space out there

To spread and rejoice

What do I choose?

A dungeon of delusions

Landing me back on my bum

Right into where I intend not to be.

What fetish, I make out of this maze.

Photo by Valeriia Miller: https://www.pexels.com