Sunday, 6 January 2008

Resolutions:

It’s that time of year again.
For New Years Resolutions.
Promises, vows and goals to be set, made and kept.
All with good intentions.
Yet like the exercise bike you got for Christmas
Will end up still or broken, covered up with clothing and excuses.

Promises to join a gym are kept to an extent
But the only part kept is the monthly charge.
You never attend there even when you do have the time.
Vows to eat healthily are ruined when you end up going to Thorntons
To spend that extra bit of Christmas money you have left.
You tell yourself you will start anew tomorrow
But once work comes back into dominance your mind is preoccupied.
Your goal of loosing two stone in weight goes the other way.
After all the Christmas turkey, Christmas pudding
And the selection boxes of chocolate biscuits you daren’t approach the scales.

So considering all the failures no matter how much you protest that you tried your best.
I propose a new year’s resolution we can all make and keep with utter ease.
To not make resolutions we know we can’t keep
To make an oath to smile at least once everyday.
To go dancing in the rain at least once a year.
To call the old friend we haven’t spoken to in more than six months.
To go back to the rivers and lakes and feed the ducks.
To find a playground and spin yourself silly on the round-a-bout.
To try something new every day.
To never stop saying I love you.
And most importantly just to live life without regret.

Chocolate and Butterflies:

I wonder what it must have felt like to be the first person
That dipped sounds in ink or pigment and trapped them upon rock or parchment.
Which clever mind then chose to call those confined sounds letters?
Was it the same person, who after shuffling those noises around together,
Like hand-picking chocolates for a selection box,
Goes on to name them words?
Forever binding them to man’s growing intelligence.
To be continuously defined, categorised and studied.
Pressing the true nature of sounds deeper and deeper into the ink black, blue or red.

Yet I laugh with what is called irony
For however much man strives to contain and control those words, letters and sounds.
They will always be released and escape our dominance in the end.
Our mind, tongue and voice are eternal keys to set such communication free.
We will always long to taste those vocal treats.
They are indeed the chocolates that are so delicious to taste
And feel smooth as they flow into our ears.
Such is the reason why oral tales of adventure, horror and laughter around the fire were born.
Such is the reason why young men in leotards and rapier sword serenade fair maidens trapped in towers.

When sounds are freed from our mouths they glide like butterflies.
So delicate at first upon our tongue yet with the will of our mind they grow stronger.
And fly out.
Their wings beating with meaning.
Their vibrant colours displaying the power and emotion behind our voice.
As they flutter on our breath from one ear to the other.

What we call language is the graceful dance of countless butterflies.
We attempt to keep them with us
Dipped in ink, pressed onto paper and bound in hardback.
Yet we can only ever truly enjoy them when set free.
To continue the great orchestra that is life.

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