I cannot remember where I left my pen,
It's been a long time since I've visited a blank page,
Although I have so much to write about.
Days gravitate around the planet,
Giving me more time to live,
While age rushes me to get things done.
So, I keep fighting the old demons,
I struggle to prepare for future demons,
And I miss the here and now.
Then I figure I should change my strategy,
Shake up my priorities,
Swallow my perfectionist pride,
Reassess my status,
And move on.
I run to the mountains,
I ask the trees:
'Who am I?
What do I want?
What should I do?
Which path leads me out of this chlorophyll maze?'
It's been a long time since I've visited a blank page,
Although I have so much to write about.
Days gravitate around the planet,
Giving me more time to live,
While age rushes me to get things done.
So, I keep fighting the old demons,
I struggle to prepare for future demons,
And I miss the here and now.
Then I figure I should change my strategy,
Shake up my priorities,
Swallow my perfectionist pride,
Reassess my status,
And move on.
I run to the mountains,
I ask the trees:
'Who am I?
What do I want?
What should I do?
Which path leads me out of this chlorophyll maze?'
TrĂšs joli. Je comprends bien l'essence de ton questionnement.
ReplyDeleteMerci bien :) C'est une quĂȘte Ă©ternelle, je crois, Ă la Platon, dans la recherche de transcendence.
DeleteQuand je t'ai rencontrĂ©e tu disais ĂȘtre Ă la recherche de la vĂ©ritĂ©. Tu es toujours Ă la recherche de quelque chose qui se trouve plus loin. Noble quĂȘte!
ReplyDelete:) Oui, on se ressemble là , on est toujours affamé pour un point plus haut.
Delete