Each day was a new day.
No two alike in any important way
except the fact that they only stayed
in that place, for that single day.
The next day, they moved on to find
a place they imagined in their mind
of a place without rubbish nor ruin,
with clear waters, and clean skies.
Every day a new day to move on
to the same way of getting on.
The moves became more
than some could bear.
The days became weary wear and tear
on the space both outside and inside
those needing to explore
a new place on a new day.
Until the day they discovered
they lived on an island.
They had returned to the place they began.
They had circled the island
with no place left to expand.
That is the day they began the plan
to leave the island behind
and look for new islands in the unknown seas
on unknown shores they did not understand.
They left behind the ruins on their island,
left the island to heal itself
and those too tired to move on.
One wonders at such self-assured
blindness to explore instead of restore
an island that had once been enough, and more.
One wonders why here is not enough.
annarino writes 