|● Cosmic sage ● I am fiction - I don't exist ● Towards 'Nothingness' - that profound singularity ●|
The Unsuspecting Reader
There are days I want to be sad.
On days when the skies are grey
And the birds are heading home
A storm brews in the skies
Raindrops pattering in my garden.
As the rain picks up pace
The storms now thundering
As the candle melting on my table
Makes shapes of my shadows on the wall behind me
Young and sad - I start reading a book.
As the story grips
As candle after candle melt
In daylight and night
Season after season
As the wrinkles appear
On my forehead
As the shadows grim
On the walls behind me
As I turn the last page of the book
And find myself holding a mirror
Old and smiling.
Stories so many, many were the days. Good bad sad grief. Hugs kisses mountains miseries. Days nights breeze winds. Tears sweat sweet sour. All everything none at all. You and I and that is all💝