Its like stepping over a puddle.
Like walking through a a mass of tall dry weeds
Thinking its just a small (though dark) park
Only to find
It was an acre-long park and I walked all the way
And then seeing the tranquil pond in front,
Think of a long cool refreshing dip.
And then the hope that on the other side of that pond
Will be green grass and trees
A meadow to enjoy
A farm with a view.
But then I walk nearer
Only to find its a small puddle
reflected from far to look like a pond.
A mirage.
All it takes now to cross a chasm
Is to walk over a puddle
A small splash
Not even that.
Like a space-time warp
Moving from One World
to the Next
In one small step.
The flowers on the other side already
look old
But the trees look real
They are still far
One splash away.
To walk forth is the
Only way now
To inspect the flowers
And the trees
To see if there is a farm
where there may be some rest
if not a pond
Is it a mirage too?
Not a back glance
Not a moments hesitation
The farm may be old
The flowers fake
But its not tall dry weeds
At least its green.
------------------------------------
Today I ended the last day in the third organization of my career. Though its been two and a half years here, it is as if the chord was cut before it formed. I feel not a thing, I leave behind no memories - perhaps some sad ones. No associations I will treasure, no work I will treasure - perhaps the little I show on my CV. And day after tomorrow I will join my next organization. Today was D-day and it is already D-1 day. The rest, the vacation I thought I would get is not there. There is no time.
How will my next assignment go? I don't know. I'm jaded, yet I'm expectant. I have no hopes yet I hope. Nothing is perfect, but wouldn't it be great if it is? But I'm realistic.
Perhaps the first job is unique in that respect - there are no hopes or aspirations. No standards to improve or deteriorate.
For the moment I will open a bottle of wine, celebrate an end and a new beginning, all at once. And savour the moment.
Like walking through a a mass of tall dry weeds
Thinking its just a small (though dark) park
Only to find
It was an acre-long park and I walked all the way
And then seeing the tranquil pond in front,
Think of a long cool refreshing dip.
And then the hope that on the other side of that pond
Will be green grass and trees
A meadow to enjoy
A farm with a view.
But then I walk nearer
Only to find its a small puddle
reflected from far to look like a pond.
A mirage.
All it takes now to cross a chasm
Is to walk over a puddle
A small splash
Not even that.
Like a space-time warp
Moving from One World
to the Next
In one small step.
The flowers on the other side already
look old
But the trees look real
They are still far
One splash away.
To walk forth is the
Only way now
To inspect the flowers
And the trees
To see if there is a farm
where there may be some rest
if not a pond
Is it a mirage too?
Not a back glance
Not a moments hesitation
The farm may be old
The flowers fake
But its not tall dry weeds
At least its green.
------------------------------------
Today I ended the last day in the third organization of my career. Though its been two and a half years here, it is as if the chord was cut before it formed. I feel not a thing, I leave behind no memories - perhaps some sad ones. No associations I will treasure, no work I will treasure - perhaps the little I show on my CV. And day after tomorrow I will join my next organization. Today was D-day and it is already D-1 day. The rest, the vacation I thought I would get is not there. There is no time.
How will my next assignment go? I don't know. I'm jaded, yet I'm expectant. I have no hopes yet I hope. Nothing is perfect, but wouldn't it be great if it is? But I'm realistic.
Perhaps the first job is unique in that respect - there are no hopes or aspirations. No standards to improve or deteriorate.
For the moment I will open a bottle of wine, celebrate an end and a new beginning, all at once. And savour the moment.
- Current Mood:apprehensive
- Current Music:03 Daylight Dancer - Daylight Dancer
________________________________________
About Me
Regurgitations of my mind. Specific, Vague, Memorable, Forgettable, Thoughtless, In-depth.
More variegated than your dreams or colours off a crystal. More than I can pen down. What I can, you can read.
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Comments
Un-stopping u travelled, in search of velly of flowers,
U saw weeeds, and trees and cauliflowers,
But all was catalogued , in your travel journal
as afterall , u r a botanist
now u continue, the the Trees you see Green,
and Being a Botanist, the eye u have Keen!
Thats the "Soul and Center" of everything as granny weatherwax says.
may the force be with you. :)