天空

it’s a blur … so many things happens and nothing happens at all …

I like sitting on buses (only those with nice comfy seats) and look out the window and watch the surroundings past me by. I like looking at the blue sky and the fluffy clouds while I sit and zip past too. It gives me a surreal feeling. A feeling of peace. Away from mess, away from trouble, away from problems, away from triviality, away from people … Such an ethereal feeling, but so ephemeral. I wish it would last, but since I don’t attempt to ask more of it, or seek it out, I have merely let it slipped. Out of my vision, out of my mind, but never out of my heart. I don’t let go. I seldom let go easily. Too much a controlling person to let it go. Always wanting it to be perfect. Yet, in search of perfect heaven, I have, myself, constantly been plagued by imperfection. NO. Imperfection is not a plague, neither is it a disease. It’s just a state of being for all things human, all things of the physical world. (Only God is perfect.)

But the sky is so perfect. It’s always pretty, even in it’s darkest moments, it exudes a radiance that overwhelms. No darkness will mask the majesty of the sky. It envelopes us, it fills me. It doesn’t give me purpose, but it gives me wanting more, wanting more of the world, wanting more of life, wanting more of things out there, in distant lands, beyond my shores, across oceans, beyond boundaries. So, it’s out there – what I want is out there. It’s not near. It’s far. It’s not far. It’s near.

Yet, the sky is so unpredictable. It might rain when it had promised you sunshine. It might be scorching when rain was promised. The winds might blow too strong that it kills, the water might come too often that it drowns. A sign to stop us from doing something? A hint to turn away? An order to back down? Men – they continue to move forward.