Semblance of serenity

I clipped my paper-pencil down,
closed the binder inward-flat,
lifted my emerald-encrusted crown,
and threw my heavy towel back.

Walked halfway across the room,
twisted the heavy curtain rods,
and wiped away the gloom,
with the sunlight from the gods.

Some of the brightest moments in my head are my memories from adventure sport because the speed at which things happen don't let me think. I like being in tough-to-think situations. It forces you to use instincts. Learning about your instincts makes you wiser. It gives you an incredible understanding of your personal limits. The best part is that these limits are unfettered; the only corrupting desire associated with adventure sport is personal enjoyment. There is no want for money, no fame and no stress. Just a healthy dose of self-endangerment.

Drank a heavy glass of water,
and felt it’s outward climb,
firing neurons, each and after,
fading time with time.

Sitting on my rocking chair,
with its complicated rock,
running fingers through my hair,
one eye on the dock.

The blades of water sliding in,
the commonplace of sound,
putting out and taking in,
further each time around.

The saltiness in the water-air,
the everlasting breath,
smell-less a little far from there,
a place we haven’t met.

Colourless and colourful,
the alternating strips,
glistening and wonderful,
the sunlight on her hips.

Yellow crickets in the sand,
muffled by the pores,
in the purple sunset, hand in hand,
they walk along the shore.

Peace and prosperity is one thing. Accomplishment is quite another. I think I have changed from who I used to be. I used to think accomplishment was trumped by serenity. That it would be so much easier to live if you just disconnected from everything that society tells you is important. Like success. But I've changed. I believe serenity only comes with action. As contradictory as it may seem, I find so much peace in involvement, in excellence. I've never been so liberated before. I've never felt so energized. I've found happiness in giving time. I think, until my mind decides otherwise, that that's what I'll do. Give time.