Wandering

This is a chapter from my fifth book called Freedom

I sit quietly with my thoughts in the middle of nowhere. I think of only the good. The rainy season is coming. The plants will be green like they should be. The flowers will be happy with the colors of thunder. The birds will dance at the sight of nature's growing abundance. The wind walks by with a smile on his face. The road home is winding. The smell of the ladies of the night plant echoes through the slumber of the night. The owl wants to know who sits here. The leaves have forgotten where they are going. They are content to just wander under the moonlight. The moon likes when we write poems about the moon. The moon snores loudly in tandum with the swaying of the clouds. The trees clap because it is breezy. Life should always be this easy. Words slowly drip from the leaves of contentment. The world of the bothersome we leave behind. Rivers become shivers. The night is cold. The mosquitos are bold. I hear the ocean sing about stories the waves have told. A dimble in time. Freedom does not cost a dime.

The energetic sun shines through the dusty window. The forever fan spins like a man without a plan. Morning has turned into afternoon. The pink painted walls are still asleep. In fact they are always sleeping. The spider wants to laugh at the squeaky door. Where does time go when it gets tired? All the mats sat on the floor waiting forever. Those shoes remind us of how far we have come. The bags have seen better days but have withstood the weight of time. The curtains try to explain why the rains have not come. But who can understand the language of the cloth? The clouds glance at the coconut tree. The coconut tree loves to play the guitar of embarrassment. Those ants are up to no good. The light switch feels useless during the day. The hum of gratitude fills the air. Memories sat on the chair. Through the window we stare. The fingers wander some more. The eyes wonder even more. What a lovely day. The holey shirt that loves to pray. What words would say? Freedom is here to stay.

Late night into early morning greets the soul that wanders. What thoughts are here to ponder? The noisy crickets make love with the quiet of the night. The beach at night is quite nice. The water is cold as ice though. The boats are anchored to their habits. Their adventure waits for the fisherman's shouting. Footsteps in the sand that lead to nowhere. I need more words that could fill this bottle. Words that can quench the thirst of letting go. Why must the nose ask where the wind goes? The wind casts a shadow between the trees of time. The moonlight on the sea is sublime. The heart of the coconut is in love with the sound of expectation. Words stutter when thoughts are climbing the mountain of a smile. We fall into the valley of sincerity. Do you hear the broken piano play? The sounds of clay in hand and water under feet. The vase of flowers looks on with amusement. The comfort of living free. Free to wander the highway to heaven. The smell of fish in the sea. We become the change we wish to see. Nonsense makes no fuss. Freedom lives in us.

*Started this chapter without being sure of what I wanted to achieve. Then in the end decided that it captures the essence of wandering that ties in with freedom. Does reading this chapter make you wonder? Does it make you ponder? Also have you come across the word sonder before?

*Sonder (noun). The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. (The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)