Stop to Think

I stare across the room and pin point in on the small yellow dot, the dot expands and explodes, the color fills the room, the sunrise wakes me out of my daze. I can now see the whole room around me, the room that was once hidden by distraction, by selfish desire. Suddenly life seems so much larger. So I ask myself why? Why do I write? I write to free myself, to understand myself, to express myself, to share myself. The sun has now begun to set and the small yellow dot that once showed me the rest of the room, the rest of life, has now dropped into the sea forming small ripples which will turn into the waves that will crash over my feet, and shape the sand that surrounds me. Will I too be shaped, changed?