Hokey Pokey


The lush green leaves and vibrant flowers have dried, browned and withered. Autumn is a symbol in which all walks of life must find symbolism in mortality. It is reincarnation, and though my religion tries hard to debunk this, I cannot help but find it uplifting for I know the successing season is spring, for which the symbolism of life and renaissance follows. This regards everything, though you sit and wonder why malice occurs indiscriminately. Like all things, they too shall pass, and end.

Like trimming a tiny bonsai plant, you always picture what you wish to create, and like reality, the results are never congruent with what you pictured. What results, is what was always supposed to happen. Your bonsai isn’t ugly, it is the way it is. Life is never ugly, it is the way it is. Not unlike a literate or written proclamation you write with a withered lifeless branch on the sandy beach; a wave inevitably comes to rinse it away. Just like bad feelings. And just like the good ones.


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