Pieces of colored paper flutter all around me,
leaves in an autumn breeze.
Each one holds a letter from the pages of my life.
All a-swirl in the chaos that is reality,
they trace an uneven path to an unknown destination.
Yet, when viewed from another angle,
perhaps someone else can see the symmetry in my life,
and make sense from the madness.
Perhaps I am just a small version of all that is.
What would someone looking down on us from above see?
The reflections of my soul in others..
the common mirror that shows the faces of friends, foes and self alike
All of us, trapped in the kaleidoscope called time.
Each of us, a little spark dancing round an enclosed existence.
Every once in a while, the tube is shaken
And our lives take drastic turns before settling down again.
Regardless of what one thinks, every thing that each of us do,
alters the entire picture, sometimes slightly,
Sometimes the present, sometimes the future
These attitudes of non-caring, and self-thinking
of which I am only all too guilty,
just create greater chaos to the whole,
and does nothing to help us escape.
Beauty in Chaos.
What pretty patterns we must all make with our souls
All of us with souls.
Some dark, some bright,
new ones appearing and others just...
fading to obscurity.
Or perhaps moving outside of time to stand in line
to peak down the tube.