Because, they are beautiful creatures.

*

*

Snow leopards. Aren't they gorgeous?

For miles and miles.

A quick thin slip, and a huge fall.

Gracious be the ones that hold on to you.

Never did I seek, nor do I help.

I stay for I search, the source of everything.

I wonder if I can claim, but I know I could never.

Birds are meant to fly in the sky.

My never-ending will abandons me, time and again.

Yet I am here. Always am.

Ready, to offer, that hand,

which you too, long back, had once offered me.

So I set you free, I decide.

That makes me free too.

Play, I play along. Pity, and laugh.

Smile for the weak, and cry for the strong.

Trembling fingers that try to measure the heart,

don't deserve to handle, what they cannot.

Can I say, that I have abandoned myself again?

For a while, I tell myself,

but it seems like forever.

I must stop. I can't, I know.

I resist, hold on.

If I seek the end, I'll never reach the goal.

The goal was always, to be where you are.

The moment that counts, the present, what it is.

The rest is a myth, in the mind, fabricated.

So we fly. We fly, for miles and miles.

Not knowing, scared, yet at peace, at the same time.

I spread my fingers, but my hands feel hollow.

Then I clench them, and shake my head.

It is now. I forget. The bird is out of the cage.

.

This would be one of those attempts of mine wherein I try and put forth my creativity for I am trying to come up with something new and explaining which, hopefully wouldn't be much of a problem as I try to well keep writing and come up with something more solid as a subject to write about which on the first place was never related to this creative decision of mine and thus I shall speak about time, which as a topic itself, talks so much about itself for time will always be, and never be as well, creating it within itself as a multi layered dimensional setting creating more and more universes along, around, within, or no where near our own tiny world, thus breaking the popular belief of it actually being the fourth dimension of this world where we humans reside and keep moving forward in time so what I think of now are the possibilities by which one person could not ever stop and keep moving forth, or backwards, just like how I keep writing, word after word, creating new things out of what once were mere thoughts, which too were nothing but a culmination of all the influences that surrounded me from the advent of whatever was that made me today, parents, their parents, the seed of evolution, the non living things that existed before life existed, and everything that made those things, which takes me back to the moment where I as a being came first into existence, not as a physical form, but perhaps a thought itself, a thought that was certainly thought of since the beginning of every thought that ever was, and thus perhaps I was, just after time came into existence, hence I prove that I too am nothing but an entire universe with my own views and thoughts moving further like the roots of a tree, deeper into the soil wherever it shall reach and be reaffirmed of it's survival, better if prolonged, but still, me being a universe shall not exactly be same as the multi dimensional situation that I had earlier mentioned, perhaps just like a layer within, around, along, or no where near another layer would be, similarly a universe would be surrounded, or not surrounded, by many others, or by none at all, every universe having it's own layers of dimensions and time extending in all directions possible, the infinite possibilities around everything that ever was, and everything, like nothing being inside, or outside everything or nothing else, as a point in a line that extends away in one continuos progression, and that dimensionless point, being a single infinite dot, lost within the infinity of that line.
                                                                                    .
                                                     
(Looper and Pink Floyd did this to me.)