I thought I was having the most boring day one afternoon so what I did was I decided to go outside and have a walk, without any thoughts of where to go or what to do whatsoever. Just walk. Maybe I'll end up seeping coffee in the joint just around the corner, or taking photographs, or sitting in the park nearby writing poetry. I could also be in the mood for jogging, if only I had been wearing my sweatshirt and sneakers.

As I stepped outside I didn't have a single thought in my head. All I did was count my steps away from the front door, away from our lawn, and just away and away from that boring place that at least I call home. As I escaped from dullness I suddenly thought boy is this poetry. My pace started to gain rhythm. This must be poetry. And then I started to notice things. My mind was no longer set in the blank.. I got startled by a squirrel. Maybe he was also just taking a walk like me. Was our lives a simile? Again, poetry. I wanted to write a poem about that squirrel and me. But I didn't have a pen and a paper. Maybe just write the poem in my head? Maybe. Poetry in my head just what like blind John Milton did. Maybe I could be just as genius. Maybe. Just Maybe.

So I was beginning to write poetry in my head, about the squirrel. But then I noticed the trees. Their colors are vividly beautiful. You see it's fall now and the leaves are dancing in the wind. Maybe I'll just write about the trees instead of the squirrel. Although it may not be just as good as Joyce Kilmer's..

As I was just about to make the decision which one to write about, I smelled the scent of coffee. Oh magnificent! Now I wanted to write about coffee. Everybody seems to love coffee.. What else does everybody seem to love? Art? Nature? Humor? Love itself? Now there's more topic to write about! Maybe I'll just pass the cup trying to write this poetry that I never seem to get to start. But alas my soul is already in motion. I could tell it's elated. It's in the mood, if that's how you want to put it. From the steadiness of my still room, I'm now in a scene of rapid thinking, and feeling. My senses are all awake. Maybe the walking did it.

At first I was just standing, and then walking, perhaps later on I'd be sprinting, with all these thoughts in my head. It's that moment of activity when you want to take every mundane thing in this world, grasp it within your hands and turn it into something good. Much like how I simply turned this boring Satuday into something eventful. Eventful, as I watch these moving thoughts spinning inside my head. I feel myself alive.

So what if it all started as a boring day? Who knows what could still happen. Maybe you'll start noticing things you hadn't. And have that eureka moment. That is life nonetheless. One moment stable, the other all fast. You could create something out of nothing. Just like poetry after all. Yeah life is like poetry.. You may not be writing poetry but you may instead be living it. You just have to know it. Who says you can't write small words on a once blank sheet?

Post Script: So did I end up writing poetry? Nope. I wrote this instead :)

~Ae Dechavez

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