The Infinity of Ideas

There’s rarely a moment
As we go about our day
Where the visions stop coming
Where there is some release.

Consider, if you will
All the lives you can lead
All the paths laid before you
And the thoughts they will bring.

A worker, a lover, a scholar of sorts
A child of a nation, a lonely old soul
It’s the paths that we choose all along our short lives
That determine the visions that cross our small minds.

But what if, for second
There was no choice of a path
No selection of lifestyle
And we burned up the map

Ever more at the point
Where our journey begins
And our future is written
On a brief moment’s whim.

Is it possible even
to grasp for it all
To live every life briefly
Amidst a whirlwind of thought?

Can there be even passion
If no pursuit is enduring?
For the stirring of action
Means a change is just looming.

The dilemma, poetic:
How do we spend our life’s time
With the lines of life written
Which are made as our rhyme?



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