Perhaps I haven’t arrived, at where and who I’ve always wanted to become.
How wonderful I’m no longer there where I began though.
This way is my way, my journey of saying that I’m learning.
I’m growing, moving towards.
The I, I am yet to be.
Not caught but free, in perceiving now and again.
Whom it is who wonders,
ponders the colour of a flower.
Whom it is who reflects,
my own too.
Whom it is who observes,
Perceives me observing
Observes me wondering
Experiences me thinking
Touching my meaning.
Perhaps its just me laughing out loud.
Perhaps I’ll still see me, with my head in the cloud .
Liam January 2018