Burden of Atlas

Is life a series of unending questions?
Or our eternal pursuit for their answers?
Right or Wrong?
Good or Bad?
Me our You?
Me or Us?
Mind or Heart?

Do we have to keep asking ourselves
These questions
At every stage
At every step
Every second
That we choose to act or stay idle
To eat or to sleep
To walk or to run

Is our life a sum of
Strange pursuits
Food, clothes, shelter
Or the most strangest
And hardest of all
Satiating the mind
And the heart

Is it why we end up
Seeking pleasures in small things
Like the feel of cool breeze
Or cold water on face
The smell of a beautiful flower
Or the taste of a sweet mango
The hug of a friend

Why can’t life be just a comedy
If not that
At least like a calm walk in the meadows
Where all we need to think about
Is what beautiful flowers
Will I find on the next turn?
Instead it always feels
Like the burden of Atlas
If only I could shrug.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: