Zephyrus Draft Within


Do we fly away,
drift away
stay away
or were we ever real?

How fleeting the impressions,
pummeled by each new today,
dismissing yesterday as the old
daring tomorrow to invent further questioning.

The labels abound.

 
Father.
Mother.
Sister.
Brother.
Daughter.
Son.
Lover.
Yet, how much a part of each other
are we?

Might it be
we are but separated cells
incubated into life,
rendered a sameness by others,
yet in reality thirsting for fulfillment,
often compelled to wander aimlessly,
as we stumble through existence?

To argue such a theory
is to know along the way
seasoned lives find
connections sever,

That like all of nature
separations occur,
drifting inevitable.

 
Attachments wane,
as detached experience
fulfills the essence of life.

Still…

Such eventual exposure
leaves us free to adventure,
to know self-determined identity
requires but to hoist liberation’s sails,
catch tomorrow’s wind,
leave behind misbegotten time.

And if true …

Is to watch from afar
the flotsam of the past,
to know destiny is of our own making,
not a determination by others.

 
Oh, how sweet the air
breathed from the Zephyrus draft within
unshackling the relationship with self.