Sometimes, we feel really down and tend to blame our surroundings and the people around us. We often forget how present-day problems are miniature in scale compared to the grand spectacle of life.
“Slipping, sinking, breathing, inside the collection of the rain.“Caged,
Inside the box of thorns.
Heart drinking boiled beans,
Replenishing lost tears.
Words imprinted in the mind,
Would not evaporate in the strongest wind.
Losing control of the ground,
Towards the core of the shattered lake.
Slipping, sinking, breathing,
Inside the collection of the rain.
Exploding back against the thorns,
Yet flying closer to the clouds.
Tiny ants are moving slowly,
Through the veiny roads below.
Pride, jealousy, and conflict,
Look insignificant and boring,
Next to the magnificence of clouds.
The eternity of heavens,
Like the human spirit,
Companions of life,
Picture of the next day.
Grand spectacle of life.Tweet
Please let me know what you think of the poem on Twitter @FischerVladimir