Living without a creed
I am thinking of that young man huddled in his bedroom and how much I still owe him, the promises he made that I haven't kept.
I am thinking of how he dreamed and didn't allow the impossibility of dreaming to stop him.
I am thinking of how could-still-be slowly drifted into is-and-ever-will-be. I am thinking that it rusted.
I am thinking of the many of us who must sigh and shake our heads. I want to believe we don't have to stop believing. I want to believe that our lives of quiet desperation can still flourish.
Are we marooned on a planet that is cold and unforgiving? Are we set aside and left to waste away? Are we doomed to be real?
I am thinking of that young man thinking of tomorrow and how much I still owe him, the dreams he dreamt that I have still to dream.