Out Of Mind
A Poem
There’s something so ethereal
about the light in the leaves
that sway outside my window.
Like neon butterflies
they flitter cross my peripheral —
being touched by the wind
in ways I envy.
I wish I could capture light
in this way.
I wish this clay,
this dry lava, this dust of rocks,
this dust of stars
would one day shine again.
Instead, I’m looking out my window,
being jealous of a tree.
I wonder if it’s jealous of me.
It stands so still
but yet so alive.
Its branches are raised
with no sign of decline
towards the heights of the sky.
Does it wish to fly?
Or, is it content
with just being alive.
Sometimes, I think
it would be better
to think no more.
I’m tired of imagining what could be,
what should be, what never was,
what never would be.
Dreams become nightmares
when you start to lose sleep.
Spend more time in my mind
than in the moment.
Spend more time in my thoughts
never spoken.
Always hoping
but never really knowing what for.
Always praying
but never really believing
what I implore.
What am I waiting for?
For God to stop knocking
and open up the door —
tell me it was him the whole time
who I’d constantly ignore?
Always feeling like I need to explore
so many possibilities.
Not sure if it’s wisdom
or uncertainty;
patience or insecurity.
I’m starting to turn on me,
doubting my own premonitions.
Regretting past decisions;
thinking there was always something better.
Lord, I don’t want to be bitter.
Just want to live life
free from all these “what-ifs” and “whatevers.”
Want to be like that tree,
alive but unmoved.
Still mind, not always thinking about
what I should do.
Just living with my limbs in the air,
touched by the wind,
un-singed by the flames —
arms raised
grateful for another day.
© Micah Josiah, 2021
