Security is anathema to adventure.
Does love open life?
Not if it is a closed confining thing.
Why do we opt for pebble-dashed lives,
Existing between the lollipop stained pages of timetables?
Staying safe is staying still..
A mediative calm to engender enlightenment,
Or, more commonly, the stillness of being barely alive
tumbling in endless,
pitiless circles
of worry,
towards a centre
that will never hold.
So minds as dull as a commuting mondays
Shuffle brilliantly towards death,
In daily expectation of the dream-fulfilling escape.
Not realising, it's only dirt,
As common as the ground beneath your feet.
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