In a world without a start or finish where do I begin?
Our past was then and perhaps the future keeps us in..
This mysterious game we choose to play
In these delicate seashells made of clay.
Though everything seems so certain until we pull back the curtain
And see that the shadows on the wall were nothing but a reflection
Of our subconscious thoughts hidden behind our complexion.
A tear starts to fall
As we realize our preconceived notions point at nothing at all.
And in this renaissance, we recognize the call
Speaking to us from the echo of the Fall.
This is confusing I know, like trying to find a snowflake buried in the snow.
But until we stop searching we will find
That our essence dances underneath the mind.
In this truth we can rejoice as one,
Shining brightly before our return to the sun.
And after we stop thinking we begin to see
How truly wonderful this life can be.
~ Drake E. Scallon