The wind blows gently along the tops of the trees

Like a whisper in the ear, it gently passes not leaving a trace

Simply an impression

You wonder if it’s real, if it really happened

Did you just imagine or is it revealed?

Thinking too hard about what you can’t prove

What you can’t be sure of…

The hidden untruths

Lie deep within the unread rules

The gaps between the lines that you can’t write on

Something that is there but unseen

So many things in life

So many unseen futures

No where to turn where there isn’t a reckoning

It doesn’t matter if the glass is half full if it never comes off the shelf

Leave the things you know to yourself

Or fight through all of the unrecoverable facts

Thinking, breathing, living

Tags: Change, facts, future, Life, thinking, unknown
Filed under: Life, poetry