Under Horizons

Wed, 02/24/2016 - 22:40 -- BStarrs

Location

Philippines

Sometimes I wonder how it is that I don't scream

because it is the six thousandth time that I

have turned on the shower.

 

We spend four years

of our lives driving

 

-Enough distance to go to the moon and back 3 times.

 

Statistically, life is

sitting on toilets and sleeping and watching TV.

 

It's sad, really, that the first thing I do in the morning 

is look at my phone

When the sun clamored over horizons and crossed oceans

just to say hello.

 

And yet- even though I will spend 25 years of my life sleeping-

I can't let go of the idea that

We too are the sun

pulling ourselves above the horizon with fistfuls of light

that we are going to spread on this world of sameness.

 

One day when the clouds seemed touchable

My sisters and I swore that we would never become cynical adults.

That day there was room

for our dreams to shout and not be echoed, mockingly.

 

But now I've been driving for only a year

and as I turn on the ignition

Again

I start to think the monotony is already killing me.

 

 

But then again

 

When my mom says

"I love you to the moon and back"

Well she really (statistically) means it,

what with all the driving she does.

 

And I think the most heroic thing about my dad

is that he wakes up at 5 every morning and drinks

the same cup of coffee and rides

the same bus the same

two hours to work and the same

two hours home.

 

This is the one thing I can't live without-

this idea that there is courage and beauty

in the mundane

 

because statistically, life is mostly mundane.

 

So when you wake up to mornings that are terrifyingly

identical to the ones before it

instead of looking at your phone

Run outside.

 

Be amazed when the sunlight greets you or

really feel the big rain drops

falling on your head, and just try

 

to love a humdrum winter day

the same way you love the first day of spring.

 

I will try too.

 

Try to

-no matter what is waiting-

run outside and seize it with both hands.

 

Trusting

 

that you were made for greatness.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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