Ready. Set. Do Not Pass Go

We keep telling it: the Universe, we’re ready. Pick us.

But it makes us wait: the Universe. We have a theory: we’re flecks of dust, nano-particles. Dots between dots. We sit within a (metaphorical) bed of mud. Upright, rising. The Sun flashes us with its spectrum, yellow whiskers and then, hot mist.

And we grow.

We dare to sense the weight that’s collapsed on our wilted shoulders, they can’t carry as much as we’d like. They show us what it’s like to feel weak. Judge and be judged, they remind us.

We wow to reign the creatures, release the ego. Be still when actions stab us and wound our ribs, even when it pains like a wrongful twist of fate.

Recognise when the Full Moon comes out to play and we soar like caged fireflies. Keep it under control, like a couple of acrobats.

Find a desire and encourage it to grow. Work hard through hard work – be forever curious, set a pace. No need to compete - we are not born individual.

Walk by blind faith, In God we trust. And if not in God, then in some magic, because as the saying goes, you will not find if you do not search.

Let us throw that thing called humanity around like bird food, if not in action, we’ll keep it verbal. If sticks and stones choose to break bones we will let our tender words be ready to soothe.

We keep telling it: the Universe, we’re ready.