Finding Something True. Perhaps One Day.

Perhaps one day, in another time, in another world. Perhaps then eros will be kind to me. Perhaps then it will be just the right time, at just the right place, at just the right moment.
Perhaps then we will find each other. Perhaps then we will stay. Perhaps then I will not be afraid to love you for knowing not if you will love me back. Perhaps then we will not need to think and rethink and think again. Perhaps then there will be no other one; no other mine or yours. No other heart I fear to hurt. No other’s life you wish to destroy. Perhaps then it will only be you and me.
Perhaps then you will look into my eyes and see your whole life etched in their sand. Perhaps then I will feel your heart beat and hear the rhythm to carry me to eternity. Perhaps then our lives will be nothing apart. Perhaps then we will be complete in each other.
Perhaps then I will stand by the shores of the ocean, watching the sun sink far into the waters. Perhaps you will walk up to me, a face never before seen, but a heart forever known.
And if not by the ocean, then perhaps in the fields of green at dusk. A lowly flower-picker blissful in her ways. Found by a man seeking a rose in its precious beauty.
And if not in the fields of green, then perhaps in the warmth of a coffee shop. Where I will sit alone reading Shakespeare, and you will find that every one of your senses directs you to me.
And if not in the ensnaring air of coffee, then perhaps in a crowded bus. With noises all round and chaos abound. Where a young woman will sit by the window, watching the rice fields and the woods fly past. Enamored of the sky in its blue and white and streaks of gray. Entranced in a world of her own, until the other half of her sits by her side, both unknowing of their fates intertwined.
And if not in a bus, then wherever it may be. If not while we are young, then whenever it will be. If not as we are, then whoever we shall be.
If only that in that time, in that space, in that world, we will find our way to each other.
Perhaps one day.
Via Clover.
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‘Mandatum’(It has been spoken).

 

[edsanimate_end]Kennedy space center, a rocket taking off , this was engraved on my tiny tee, my favorite Tshirt to be precise, a Tshirt that I wore every weekend when I was 10 years old. There was something about that shuttle, the flames beneath it that my small brain couldn’t comprehend but only got fascinated by.

The image was something like this.
The image was something like this.

Did you know that Thad Roberts, a NASA intern, spent 7 years in federal prison after having sex with his girlfriend on a bed full of stolen moon rocks? 🤪

Hoots here, hoots there, fast life, no this is not the outer space. Bright lights, strange waves, what’s there to worry? Nothing to lose each time you get knocked down. No fear of the unknown, just floating in a frequency only you can feel. Anything more exciting than this?

Well there is, I just came across a field, a field that we’re all entitled to plough, we’re are farmers by design if not by default. Is it a calling? Or do we stumble upon it by sheer luck? I told you about restoring your system to default when you feel like your software isn’t responding. It comes to a point that you have to pick the jembe and be a mkulima, scrub the mchagua jembe sio mkulima code off your script.

I just started ploughing my shamba, there are no bright lights, life isn’t fast here, every move matters. Every tool I use. In this field it’s ploughing ploughing but for the fruits that I’m sure I’ll enjoy tomorrow.

The shamba really looks fabulous so far, it rains sometimes, other times it pours, most of the time it’s like watching the sun set with the birds singing, thunder rarely comes. I’m not planning to put my tools down, not anytime soon. This is my Space center. I am the astronaut.

Farming I realize is within us all.

Reprogram, change your ways, there’s a field that awaits you. A space that is only meant for you.

Be good do good.