Under construction
Is how I find myself
on every morning,
after a deep sleep.
Looking for places to patch
In order to keep going,
Luckily enough
It's all organic and intrinsic;
More work in the mind
Than anything physical.
It's more about
Curating thoughts
Instead of just starting again.
For how many beginnings
Should I inspire in this life of mine?

It's a constant change,
Even if it is seems like a routine,
For I look the same in the mirror,
But my mind is forever different.
When I read your words,
I learn of more perspectives
Of how life exists outside
My creative kingdom.

The original is me,
Not my words,
Or the sentences I write
With no regards to rules.
Like a reflection
My expression
Is only of what I have learnt.

And I am that one in the mirror,
No matter the situation,
And I am part of the reactions
Of all my dealings.

An athlete trains for the perfect motions;
I train to inspire smiles and those
Aha moments.

My practices,
Full of mistakes,
Are focused into finding new ways,
Of maintaining the process
To build more everyday.
And when the page is blank,
And the text cursor blinking,
I think of ways to fill it
With meaningful gems.

Be it a story or a brain-stormed thought,
Sometimes, there's a need to let the soul pour
(Out)
"Unclutter the fountain and let it flow!"
The gems aren't valuable if kept inside,
The appraisal comes better
When ownership is gone.

I could tell of the ascension
Of a warrior from hell,
With chains dragging on an ashen floor
With atrophied muscles shaking
On a seemingly eternal
Slow walk.
But words are ephemeral
If not written in stone
Like the hieroglyphs of the civilizations before.

But I woke up
Settled and with a mind clean,
Damn, I even forgot about the episode
Of that series I had seen.
The intention here
Is to play,
Like a kid
with a toy,
Only I type,
And play with a thought.

What if this was my last work?
What if I was granted a passage from life?
Would I be able to be grateful
By the writings I have done?

Never, for there is always more.
Grateful I am, of the things done before.
But not if comparing with what is to come.
There's always a better versions
Of what was previously done.
An eternal motion
Physics can't portray.
For there's no loss of energy
To new energy create.

Nope,
It's a matter beyond what can be proved.
There ain't no standard
To what can be thought.
No rules to follow
In this mind of ours.
There's only control
And that's MY part.
Although I'm respectful
To what I still don't know.

No rush, though.
For like I said before,
There's always a progression
Of the processes
Inspired by the soul.
Hmm, have I said that at all?

And what is the soul?

(...)

Nah, I'm done now.
I will think about that on
Another time.
It's Saturday,
And the schedule is full.
Jee, why did I make myself so busy
Today?