Yeah, so there are things you’re good at
and things you love to do.
Maybe you’re good at it because you love it,
or is it the other way round, I wonder,
but I digress…
Life, however, has this annoying little habit
of interfering with our ability to do them.
Time seems elusive,
disappearing like a leaf in the gusty autumn wind,
gone without a trace in an instant.
Or is it the energy levels that dip
as you get lost wandering through the empty rooms at home,
staring out of windows, all the while waiting,
praying, for that voice in your head to come up with
a million and 1 other things that need doing.
Do you really need to snip those flowers? Dust those annoying ornaments?
Fill every waking moment with an activity recognized by the
world at large
as something considered to be constructive?
Or should you rather just sit down, stretch out your legs
in the warm afternoon sun, in that quiet corner specifically
to relax in and read a book, but never have,
or maybe daydream,
daydream until the sun is but a faint memory,
in a time where the owls swoop soundlessly through the air,
where even the wind has blown itself to sleep
and your mind is refreshed and relaxed
enough to see past the obstacles created by the chaos of
‘Cause when you can reach that place,
everything is possible,
dreams are real,
and choosing to act is the only, possible answer,
even fear doesn’t feel so bad at all,
in fact, it doesn’t scare anymore,
but fills you with courage and excitement instead,
and you stand up from this daydream
to do, to live, to just experience that which you love,
which you’re good at,
because time, too, denies every thief its victory,
and under the light of the passing moon
your dreams become real once more.