Tiny Chapters

I

I am folding pages from the novel of life like peels from a banana?

No.  Maybe an oyster.  Shucking from my thoughts the crystallized pressure of the ocean;

At least the passing of time against my weary young body.

An oyster is too hard.  My soul is soft.  Yes, my soul is far from anything hardened.

I understand a pearl lies beneath the rough exterior.  

But I don't purport to be a shell with hidden beauties.

No, my soul might be softer - like a doughnut.  I understand, there is nothing inside.

Holes - that is truly the passage of time.  So many lawyers of intricate production.

Sure the ingredients are not entirely difficult.  But a fried doughnut is no easy proposition.

A well crafted doughnut is, in its entirety, a collection of toppings and adornments.

A gentle hand nurtures a doughnut to its gushy interior by topping

The squishy hole-filled creature with a glaze of sugar and sprinkles and chocolate...

AND SOMETIMES THEY PUT IN JELLY.

Is my soul a Jelly doughnut topped with a strong dusting of confectioners' sugar?

II

I get lost looking through faces of the past.  

They are not lost because they are unfamiliar to me.

They are lost because they are apart from me.

I miss my memories.  

That is either obvious or redundant.

Literally memories needn't be missed.

But we all use the word memories in reflecting on times we miss.

I miss the times in which I can recall a friend.

Even if a face is apart from me, I can still recall a friend.

III

Time flows constantly, not as a reckless stream but as an overwhelming tidal wave.

The tossed ships and cracked fusion of an overwhelming show of tidal force - yes, that is Time.

Time becomes almost nothing in it's immensity

The ant does not conceive of us as a person but as a vast unexplored landscape with treasures untold

We use words like traverse and explore as we conceive of temporal landscapes

Where by Time is a being unto itself and we don't even know of it's individual existence.

One should not look to map this time, much as an ant will not try to understand every human finger

Which pushes it... nor heel which exterminates it.

Do not wonder when the heel or the finger will push and crush you.

A quibble with time does nothing but prevent us each from that savory moment

When friends are friends certainly in life and in forever ever

Where the mind is not bound and time does not exist.