To Wonder...

It's a wonder that
This world exists
Even if...even if but for
Imagination

It's a wonder...
What to wonder?
To think, to dream...
Emotions torn asunder.

Sometimes, I think
Maybe...
Maybe it's time to return to the earth
To think in practicalities

But practical, sterile
Can one start to see
Can one start to dream
Can one start to be

But to think, to dream
To see those we didn't
Because we were too busy living
Too busy to notice

Intent on crossing
An imaginary line
A finish, maybe
Too busy to stop, ignoring the signs

To stop, to slow down
To look and to listen
Sometimes we forget what is in a moment.
And sometimes we don't want to remember.

Too busy living
Too busy to feel
But it's only in life
That these emotions are real.

Sometimes,
We are too busy living
To notice what is truly important.
To notice love, or to notice we hinder it.

But it's always waiting, whether we notice, or turn a blind eye.

It puts up with us.

For love is truly an amazing thing.