Category Archives: Thought of the moment

bitter calm of winter

Posted by enreal on

The smell of winter.

Darkness arrives early this time of year.

Time passes slow.

The sound of my voice is clearer as the wind silences the world.

What is it about the oncoming peace that leaves my heart confused? The calm on the waters is soothing as my mind races far into the future, doubling back and charging through the barrier of time… flimsy really… for one can always venture into the past, the future is what leaves us in shadow…

There is a calling from within the mist of the shadow… hearing what we know, yet understanding as one would a lost language… or understanding as one would a smile… sad is the voice from within… as is the look in the eyes of my dying father… Did he know he was going to die that night? The look in his eyes say yes. Yes… yet it was just a dream, another lost memory, just another dream. It fades…


Fading as are the years one ventures away from the sound of his voice, or is it my voice… Can I hear the difference?  Do I know of what I speak? Is this really about him? Or is it really about me? Just another vision, just another dream, just another tear which falls to my feet…


The ground is cold beneath my feet… I stand before the calm shore and the moon glistens its light upon the waters… darkest night so full of light… where is my vision? where is my sight? I turn to find my father by my side… the bitter calm of winter… he smiles… he is here again, for now… then why am I so sad?


Because these are just more words coming from my head… more words… or simply another dream… Yes… it was just a dream, another lost memory, just another dream… coming from my head


Dad

Why

Posted by enreal on

Understanding life is one thing, asking questions and expecting answers is another. We can assume all we want that there is a purpose, a meaning, an answer. I believe there is, but why?

Why?

That is the question. Why is there Life? The meaning to the purpose to the question.

Why is there Life?

I don’t want science to tell me of the randomness, the probabilities, the unique and unlikely circumstance of it happening. I want to know why.

Here is a thought. Is the answer too big? Or perhaps the thought is too small? Can we fathom the question, or understand the meaning? Or are we simply answering ourselves? Questions keep spinning until…we stop asking. Our minds not equipped for the infinity of the questions. It keeps going, infinitely circling in our minds, until we forgot what we asked.

What did we ask again?

Oh yes,

Why?

Such a small word, such a large possibility. Perhaps one day it will be not a matter of why, or how… it simply will be,

A question