Lines of Thought

The question hung in the air for a moment, twisting and turning in front of him as he considered how to answer. I began to think I shouldn't have asked.

But eventually he stood, and turned to the window. I clicked open my pen, ready for whatever advice he might offer. As he spoke, I began to write.



Once I believed in possibilities.

I believed that people were basically good,

Peace on Earth might be possible,

and freedom actually meant we were free.

I believed with hard work that someday, someday

I'd be an actor, writer, or director -

a creator of Important Works.

Whatever I wanted to make of myself.

I believed in possibilities.


But I also believed that if I sat

and talked to a man in a red suit,

he'd drop gifts down my non-existent chimney.


For a time we're all Aristotle, you see,

blissfully residing at the center of the universe.

But one day you find your Galileo,

and it all comes crashing down.


Once I believed my life would have significance.

Now I only believe in what might have been.





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Consider this my contribution/reaction to Chaos and Dogwoodpuddle's recent musings on middle-age.

Also, Shade has a cute ongoing story and a lovely series of corresponding photos over on his page. Head over and give him some encouragement!

Did anyone read this far? I always hesitate to post a long one....