enthusiasm
for life
comes and
goes
i guess
sometimes
each little
moment
glistens
sometimes
not at all
sometimes
moments
one
knows
are
glistening
feel
muted,
dull;
can i hang
on just
one moment
more?
doesn't seem
like it
should be
such a chore
but it is
sometimes
sometimes.
this weird
thing we have
the ability
to animate,
truly.
the ability
to blow
words called
purpose and
meaning
into our
balloon called
life
but sometimes
our lungs
are weak
and tired
and sometimes
the air we
blow is leaden
or the air
the balloon floats
in is thin
like the death zone
on chomolungma
buoyancy has
its limits
in air
that is thin
the flow
over the wedge
creating lift
gets more tenuous;
to try to stay
aloft?
or return to thicker
air?
or just
"hang in there"
drifting
between
0 and 1
working to
find the seam
and once found
or stumbled upon
or bumped into
to let it settle
upon one's self
or spring from within
or meet in
the middle
at the seam
in the grain boundary
for a moment
or moments
whatever the
case might be?
or crash
to earth
burning?
or some other
malapropism?
that is the
question
yes,
that
is the
question
if one cares to ask.
