Looking for my universe

Who am I, this is a question, I have always wondered, like a conundrum, I have always thought, and pondered?

Corresponding to an unfamiliar echo to such a voice, mine was trapped within, two very distant wells, in that, every time I were to look upon a mirror, I was always, someone else.

Even as a dreamer, I can only dream of only the things that I can do. I would close my eyes, I would make a wish, and I have always hoped, for something new.

But the “new” has not yet come, to meet with me, I would wake up, one morning, to the next, and the next one has always been the same.

Maybe, my life is like an old fairy tale story, that has never yet to be written. Maybe, I am a book filled with so many treasures, with a map, that was always meant to be hidden.

With a heart as pure as gold, a soul, bursting through its a silver lining, or I could be, a diamond in the rough; the possibility, could never be enough, because all that I could ever do was, to laugh.

But it is not a kind of laughter, that sounds, quite demeaning, but one, linked to a source, positively, full of meaning. In the same way, as to how one would laugh at someone else’s joke, one must first see the whole point before any laugh, can be hatched. And so, the point remains, like a bird, destined to be free, I also wish, to break out of my very own, yoke. So, that I can lie down at a field, where the grasses are green. I want to watch the clouds, paint me a picture or two, to where the sky, is barely about to turn from orange to blue.

I want to smile, as big as the crescent moon, especially after the shedding of the rain; leveraging the heights, to the very colorings of the rainbow, to where no other shadows can remain. I want to look at a single rose, and to know right away, who to give it to. I want to know how dreams are made, and which, from all the many illusions, are true. I want to know how to live like a king, with my heart, clinging to a promise, born inside a ring. For even now, as the world, turning to something, a lot smaller, while I, is so far away, from ever, even, getting taller. It is why I seek, to reach for all the color of my universe, to great expanse, to the very sowing a seed into a verse.

I am who I am to be, the journey has only begun, and so, imagine the harvest, and the fruit I will get to reap under the sun.

The possibility seemed somewhat endless, but here I am, still hoping, for only the best.

By: Wilbert Dela Cruz