My mind is as small as the universe My fate steeped in mystery A frozen future lies ahead, a trail of ashes behind. But, oh, the places my mind has been; an explorer of the void between the rising fire and falling snow. Like the seed of a dandelion, it flies into oblivion in the slightest of breezes. In the fragrant turmoil of my mind I am a chattel to nothing, no one; a free feather fluttering away from its master, graceful to the close. I am a voyager Swimming in the vibrancy of darkness Venturing deep into the forests of the soul Weathering eruptions of inspiration that scatter across vast deserts of snow. Tangled in the radiant weeds of my journey, I set sail towards the end. Yawning, the mouth of the sea ebbs and flows. A damning wind bares its yellowed teeth. Stranded on misty shores, I stumble fall down… down… down… Only to be abandoned to the merciless beauty that is the top of the world. I run a bath of sunlight to soothe my aching soul. In this chasm of delight an ocean of thoughts trickle down my spine. My spirit, a meadow of undulating grass. My hands, rivers of reveries cascading through my fingers. My eyes, crisp ice that conquers the hearts of others. Light blooms in my soul; an omphalos of hope. In the cacophony of silence I linger, I wait to rise from the ashes and journey to the places my mind has already been.
We were children of light, scared of the dark huddled under our blankets of ignorance anticipating the moment when shadows would burn. We peered through slits in curtains, longing to touch the sea of wishes then falling prey to the darkness within our minds. Courage stumbled upon us as we grew, tips of toes ventured outside. The pain of a crooked neck, frostiness of a rooftop was warmed by the Acrux soothed by the grin of a crescent moon. A dawn of thoughts flourished in the dead of night. Age came with greed as arms like mountain peaks strained, limbs yearning for light-years snatching for the Jewel Box, but battered by the Coal Sack which binds us, blinds us from the dawn and demise of perpetuity. We endeavoured to create our own stars, own light that would shine as bright as those naturally gifted, in doing so all but destroying the very thing we tried to imitate. Stars withered as knowledge bloomed. Time taught us that flesh is no match for hydrogen or helium. We are but small birds beating about a cage that holds emptiness and eternity, yet we cannot see for darkness. To the universe, we are flightless. Each of us an Epsilon Crucis, so faint, so indistinct that we are not worthy of any flag. But together we can become something more. We can become our own Jewel Box a land of a long Magellanic Cloud, our own Acrux which might just be worthy of being a bright dot amidst the darkness on which a child can dream.