What are we supposed to do with life? I know there are a million and one set formulas to follow but is there not more to life than following a set of instructions? Of course there is. We can go off-the-narrative-grid if we feel brave enough. Or we can lay in bed and dream. What do you think?
I wrote this poem this morning. I have a busy day ahead and I’m in a bit of a hurry. So this poem is very first-draft. In fact, it’s more like a scribble. But I thought I’d share it.
soft life when soft asks no questions seeks no answer leaves no trail life is always an invitation to die reason is a prison of misunderstanding here we are again in bed locked neatly together hurrying the inevitable as love sits on the sill in the sun harvesting the days