I do not know how to swim, yet the sea calls to me. I sit on the shore for days and years and let it watch me. It is peaceful. There is calm and there is chaos, there is violence and serenity, there is perfection and coarseness, there are pieces of paper that float on its coloured waters. They are sometimes blank, sometimes with a word, sometimes pictures, often they hold more wisdom than all the books in the world, sometimes they are the little boy's toys, sometimes they find their way here.
And there, when you watch
Yourself unravel
Within the threads you shunned,
What,
Then,
Will
You
Say
To yourself,
When you were whole,
Within the threads you shunned
For the joyous feeling of
Unraveling?
posted by peter pan at 12:06 pm
0 comments
