Balcony Observations

I sit on my balcony, in the sunshine.
Attempting to work, as I am constantly distracted by the outdoors, by being outside.
By looking at the mountains,
as they taunt me.

I watch another sun worshipper, as he finds a place to rest infront of the church. He sits. Looking up to the sky occasionally. He leaves this spot, but returns about five minutes later. He sits in the same spot, but this time only for a few minutes. Perhaps it is the chill of the wind in this place, that I just felt myself. He walks around the car park for a few moments, moving his head around as he searches the area, until he disappears from sight.

He is back. He approaches the same spot as he looks up at the same window of a house, perhaps he is looking for someone? Waiting for another? He sits in his favourite spot, legs curled up, arms wrapped around them.

Distractions

Eyes heavy
Things to do

Walk to escape
Place to rest

Warmth to sit
Desire to be out

Place to think
Walk to think

Distractions found.

Warmth found
Journey continues.

Discover

What am I doing?
What are you doing?

What are we doing here?

Walking the earth to discover.
Walking our paths to
mark.

Finding our natural habitat.

Where we are content.
With whom we are content.

Outside

You sit infront of the
mountains. As I look back at them,
eye contact is made,
yet is it? The distance is
deceiving.
The last glance allows
for a release to occur.

Freedom has been
found.
A clear sight of
the mountains.
As clear as the sun will allow on the
day he chose to dominate
the sky. The day he cast
the clouds aside.

He wanted to be the
king, bringing out his
worshippers to sit and bask
in all his glory.

I sit as one of
them, it seems,
yet his angle at this
time of day seems to
keep catching the tree in his
path.

A repetitive shuffle
assists the worshipper to
maintain position in the
outdoors.

Nature Dominates

These are all just words.
What is happening.

Yet nature just sits
and moves for survival. We watch
as it appears to stay still yet it
is always on the move. It is
alive and growing.
Natural.

Life by the river
with the
mountains in sight.

One day is grey.
One day all is sunny.

You expect to see the
mountains visible in the
sun, yet no. They sit
hidden in the haze. The
power of the sun dominates.

Water

Fish swim in the river.
They swim in close proximity. Those
who you can communicate
with, without learnt speech.

Rivers, canals. The real home in
these cities I call home.

Movement

I’m on a bus
I don’t know where I am going
but at least I am going
somewhere.

(That is better than going nowhere.)

Park Observations

The toy train rolls on by with an elderly gentleman in the driver’s seat. He sadly has no passengers, yet just a companion running by his side. A young girl keeps up with the train. The train on the tracks. The girl on the pavement parallel to the tracks. The man notices the child. Then he notices the parents of the child. I look beyond the train and spot a couple with the buggy looking at their child. The father had his mouth open, calling after his daughter. No attempt for physical movement was made. The paces were kept till they all disappeared from view.

I wonder. I wander.

I remain unfamiliar.
It remains unfamiliar.

What is unfamiliar?
I reduce my life
here
to what I know.
I reduce what is unfamiliar to what is familiar.

Which should make it more familiar,
yet it just makes
it more
unfamiliar.

Because I live the life of the unfamiliar.

Yet I wonder
I wander

in the same ways I do back home but just for longer.

And then I wonder what that has resulted in?

They stand there taunting me

I have moved closer.

They are in sight.

Yet I feel further.

The place I am content
in taunts me.
My real home is
in sight.

Soon I will make it.

They look close enough

to reach.

On foot I can make it.