What others perceive
As an extraordinary feat
Is to us
Just consistency
It is amazing what the human being can achieve through day to day ordinary behaviour.
Most all people like the idea of sitting atop the summit, resting, with a grand view.
But few, if any, in most domains, want to take the million steps, one at a time, each of them simple in their own right, to arrive at the top.
A giant step is simply an accumulation of many ordinary smaller steps strung together consistently over time.
Free
Naturally flowing with ease
Effortless
No forcefulness
Within existing
He told me,
Right there in the kitchen while we were making Jamaican banana pancakes
“You will write a book one day my man!”
She said to me,
“Perhaps one day you will write our family’s story.”
A remark that has stuck with me for years.
He wrote me an email titled,
“Keep Writing.”
She said to me time and time again,
“You need to get those published!”
I hear them still,
Whispering to me.
One truth that has been long forgotten is that
The poet has all the power
With nothing to aid him other than paper and pen in hand
He creates a world unknown to the other
One that no man other than the poet can grasp
The poet resides in all domains
He is everywhere around us and in his possession he has
What the average man
The societal indoctrinated one can’t
The poet has all the power and when he realises this long forgotten truth
His words like that of the river droplets
Will move mountains
The great river is forever in flow
And knows that obstacles
Are in fact not that
Just part and parcel of it all
Most men, nearly all of them, are on a treadmill to nowhere,
This is not unfortunate as much as a simple case of, it is what it is,
Imagine, a whirlpool of sorts where the river is not allowed the freedom to run,
Never culminating in nature’s grand finale when sweet water meets the sea,
Where once and for all, a water molecule is released into the ocean deep,
Freed from the muddy and craggy banks that have contained it for an entire lifetime,
Imagine the deliverance, how the river must feel upon spilling into such an abyss like the Atlantic or Pacific,
Unbridled expression without inhibition merging into the great ebb and flow,
The water, the sky, the birds,
The vast expanse which all men were originally granted and born to bathe in.
Life came to me this morning and exclaimed
Here I am
Whole
Unbroken
And
Full
And there is no need to make me into anything else
Than what I already am
I love the flying fish because of it’s contradictory existence
To be at one with the water and in the air
Anything but ordinary is the flying fish
Stretching limits with wings as fins
I believe this is the life we were are all meant to live
One without boundary, infinite and limitless
Yes, like that of the Flying Fish
There is no reason for rushing ever
Just as the river never does
Because despite what is said
The river only flows
Sometimes slow and languid through long smooth stretches
And at others quick or fast as a riffle or rapid
But the river does not rush
And the water is never in a hurry to get somewhere
It is not already
The great river runs
Wild and strong
Always in flux
Forever in flow
One day a great river I will be
Running wildly
Through the mountains and over the fields
Strong, effortless, and free
Rolling through the landscape as the breeze does the tree
Wishing on nothing easing towards the sea
Upon arriving
Knowing nothing
One day a great river I will be