March

History has forged heroes out of peasants and their kind, and here I am in privilege, immobilized and blind. Living in a paradise, lethargic to my dreams, content to think utopia on earth is what it seems ... But existence is so fragile, and time is deathly fast, and even if I fall before I've struggled in my past, others are contending, with greater threats than I, but their problems are soap bubbles, that drift off in the sky ... Let me plant solid feet, at last in the ground! Let me escape my airy prison of prismatic light and sound! Let me find that there is everything, and more, for me to do! Give me first a keen awareness, then a zeal to follow through! Soft bubbles are illusion, my delusion, and I fear, I have too often tarried in a place truth can't appear. 21 March 2017 Written for "Utopia and the Soap Bubble" contest, sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann