You were naive once [or perhaps delusional] thinking tomorrow was today was yesterday, the only difference an inconsequentially subtle blush. But
Myths have been shattered, truths exposed. Linearity was never real, as evidenced by this collective stepping-back.
Structure and order So perfectly plotted out? Life is no haiku.
There once was a boy from the earth
Whose only mission since birth
Was embracing change
Which others found strange
But helped him define his self-worth
Poetry: both lie and truth.
You busy yourself watching winter bleed into spring, the only way seasons know how to change on the Great Plains: two competing armies battling for dominance. Today’s victory (progress measured in inches, always) followed by tomorrow’s defeat. Tuesday’s sunshine is Wednesday’s snow. Attack and retreat.
Too hostile an analogy? Try “the ebb and flow of the tides” on for size instead. Does that feel more comfortable? Good. Be romanced by the moon. It is, after all, stubbornly, indiscriminately, aimlessly, reassuringly predictable.
You heard a rumor of pasqueflowers…
It felt too good to be true. Too soon. Too incongruous. Too too. But for all your flaws, optimism was always your best trait, so you put on your shoes. Cinched the laces tight. Slogged your way uphill [metaphor for humanity in these troubling times] over, around, and—when it could not be avoided—through mud, hell-bent on a promise. Not even a promise: a mere possibility.
You inadvertently took a wrong turn, finding yourself on a foreign path far from your destination.
And then, a glimpse of purple and yellow, a stark contrast to the brown undergrowth of the forest floor.
Wordsworth’s heart leapt when he looked up to the sky. Yours lurched by looking down at the ground.
They say a man, lost in the Andean jungle, malaria-stricken, feverish and on the verge of dehydration, stopped to drink from a puddle of bitter-tasting water. Remarkably, his symptoms abated. He had veered off course and ended up slaking his thirst from a pool of water at the base of the quina-quina tree. He accidentally discovered quinine, one of the most powerful anti-malarial drugs in use today.
Eventually, you righted your course. Found the path you were seeking originally. And…
Ten minutes earlier, the emptiness, the lack of color, the monochromatic void might have brought you to your knees. But you didn’t despair, did you?
Instead, you rejoiced.
You didn’t need to see a flower there, you realized.
Its absence taught you lessons that day:
…and bounce back we shall.