A blank page;
A barren land;
Whatever flows flows.
No barring the surging waves;
No stopping the sprouting seeds;
Will this river reach the ocean?
If it didn’t, would it be a river?
Will it make deserts flower?
Will it make mountains cower?
Why not let it be what it will be?
Why not a symphony of serendipity?
Why pain for the past?
Why fear of the future?
Why seek to find something?
Why not find whatever was found?
Why is any path, the wrong path?
Because it should be somewhere, elsewhere?
What if it didn’t go all the way?
Because of this dead end?
Either ram it with all there is,
Or turn back and find another way.
Brave enough to choose either!
What flowed in isn’t what’s flowing out!
That’s all the meaning there is.
The change within, the destination!
Every mistake made, was to be.
Every path trod on, was to be.
Flowing words flood the soul!