I sit around and find that I know nothing.
This life is so full of everything, in every form and illusion
waiting to be discovered and transformed,
broken down and torn apart,
rearranged from what came before.
Life is fleeting
faster and faster as the world keeps turning
but here we are and there we go
moment by moment
day by day
we pick and choose how it happens
Death is not something that magically appears
but the ultimate end to the joys of living.
We can not escape it,
nor outrun it and pretend it all doesn't matter
I ponder, looking out my window, the point of it all
just to feel the overwhelming sense
that there really isn't a point but a purpose
To love and be loved
to get real with all the nitty gritty bits
and the pretty bits too
to feel everything, even the hard, tough, ugly stuff
to be thankful that you're still around to engage in the world
to help make it a better place for those who can't themselves
and to just feel anything at all
is a blessing
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