Angels

We are born as pure as we’ll ever be.

Angels, really.

Full of light.

But as we grow into the real world,

with its lure of fame and gold,

we begin to accumulate the kind of darkness

that suffocates light.

Normal, they call it.

Then, when we least expect it, we’re struck with epiphany

a glimpse into what we should focus on—

truth,

kindness,

and love.

Haunted by this awakening

we spend the rest of our lives

peeling off layers

hacking our way through the darkness

trying to get back to the light

from which we emerged.

This is the seventh poem of my personal 30-day poetry challenge to break away from the machine to think about things that don’t matter. I have no idea what I’m doing. – Jim