Midnight Musings

Staring into the wild unknown,
I face a pool of possibility,
and weigh out the paths
with speculative probability.

Craning my neck to get a glimpse
of imagination station,
I search in this space of reflection
for tangible cognition.

Something I can recognize
and hold onto with conviction.
Something, anything
to validate my own existence.

I press upon that,
so deeply ingrained,
infecting our world
with its necessary plague.

Have we lost sight
of the strings that pave the way?
When did we cling to slavery
and the inversions of their game?
When did the pen strokes of freedom
turn into bars of a cage?
What can we do
when the people’s moral compass
only seems to fade?

Perhaps these are simply ramblings
of a mad woman lost in prayer.
Yet during this time of night
when only a blank page lends its ear,
the muse scrambles to the surface,
gasping for air.

And these impulses that drive the mind
all gather together in playful rhyme.
Lining up as nuggets of truth
just waiting to be polished –
to have their time in their youth.

It seems that doubt and insecurity
also enjoy this mid-night soiree,
draining this well of conception
with their comparative decay.

They feast upon my steam,
threatening starvation,
prompting these seeds of creation
to dissolve like a fading dream.

Is this how we are deemed to live?
Constantly facing the woes of our time,
praying for their end?
Yet, are these not what spark us to shine?
The challenge that initiates growth?
Is that not the lesson on this earthly plane?

Or is that a program too?
Is it true that I am simply here to be?
To show up in the world with honesty?
What happens when that triggers the people’s hate?
And does harmony mean that things never change?

All these questions I wonder here at midnight.
with no real solution,
just me and the muse,
shooting proverbial hoops.
Wondering the difference
between socks and shoes.
And where the beginning
becomes
the end.