I wrote this poem after realising that we could view life as a set of frames.
A complete collector set of “Each Day” slices.
Imagine a different scene every day.
Imagine getting better and better each day.
Then think about “Groundhog Day” – the fact that everything is the same.
The days are stale but safe – somewhere to hide and avoid change.
The fact that every day you do the same things expecting different results.
That on some days pure random chance would present an opportunity.
And on some days nothing would happen.
That is until you grasp the fact that we may have a limited amount of scenes.
And that we should push on to identify our dearest hopes and dreams.
And drive them into existence.
How do you think you can get better?
Can you get worse?
Can things be overcome?
Can they be settled and put to sleep?
Can new things become the object of your passions to rekindle a long lost fire?