Thinking

I’ve found myself thinking
While blinking out the dust
of forgotten waking nightmares.
What if we could turn it back?
Time
What if we could turn it back
save the thousands who die
before their time.
What would that do to our lives?
If we could,
What would we change?
Do we take a broad range
approach, say
we’ll stop wars,
genocides and
slavery rights.
the attacks,
the bombings.
That touched us?

What would be the effect?
Would the human race forget
those pains that brought it this far?
The plights of our mights
that taught us
what we see as wrong
from what we see as right?
No matter how much
we suffer and greive
Are we ever allowed to replant the seeds
we’ve sown?
Change history as it is known
sacrifice a little of how we’ve grown
in the name of preventive measures?
Should we really have that power
of what could be such simple pleasure?

For we should know
by now
there comes along times
When Fate must look us in the eyes
Must tangle the thread
From which we weave our lives
And then say
“Take it in
Sort it out
And move on.”
Knowing that’s the only way
we’ll come upon
the next step
towards ending
what made us want to
reorganize our timeline
in the first place.

You can call these words
that I’ve just said
a bed of idiocy,
God’s plan or blasphemy
Call them idealism, justification
Excuse, or provocation
for one thousand more words
Of emulation’s wisdom
we create
To deal with our lives.

Or maybe call it
A need to have
some sort of faith
In a world where faith
is too often
replaced as a mask
people wear
to fit into a crowd
to comply with the wishes
of those who raised them
to make them feel whole
not alone
Call it
A need for something
that may resemble faith
but which is hope.

That same hope seen
in a child’s eyes
when it first bats those
lids to the world untainted.
The same hope seen
in men who risk their lives
under the pain of duel
rocky foundations
the world the stand on
and the feet they use to stand.
The same hope seen
in the way my cat jumps on
my keyboard,
knowing she’ll hit the ground
in seconds
but hoping that first
there’ll be that one little
scratch behind the ears.

And anyone who hears
these words
ten years
ten days
ten seconds
from now
may find themselves
saying:
“that girl don’t know hope from
innocence, bravery, or reverence”
Maybe by writing this
I’ve proved
that I can’t recognize or categorize
that I can’t sort out the
world into emotion vs. motivation.
Devotion vs stimulation.
Maybe I’ve betrayed
My idealism,
My justification
My means to excuse,
and the provocation
for my one thousand words
Of emulation’s wisdom
I create
To deal with my life.
But oh well.
I started this free verse
not as rant or rambulation
but as expression
to help end my confusion.
And as confession
I’ll say now
That I share now
To proselytize my word of the day.
And at least,
thanks to this self-expression
I may finally be able to
have a true sleep session
Not wake tomorrow
from forgotten nightmares
Thinking about something
as silly and futile
as turning back time.