The mind wanders,
near and far,
try to reign it in,
it cuts loose and scampers off again.
Sometimes an elusive firefly,
at other times scaling the infinite sky,
the mind takes wing,
feels the rush and high of lofty hope.
It shyly opens up like the oyster lying deep in the sea bed,
revealing its core,
leaving the essence unsaid,
the value to be judged through the ages.
It peeks out of the moss-covered ruins of yesterday,
green with questions,
in the face of the yellowing past.
The words scribbled on the parchment,
foretell a destiny of one’s own making,
the mind sees, the mind accepts,
but wanders yet again.