In the sense of what’s to come
It is possible only to feel a sense of fullness unfulfilled,
As a child one must outline, lay out the future in textures,
Sharp lights, abysmal darks
Derived from fairy tales, tall stories, strange films,
The domiciles of ghouls, of wicked jells
From outer space, filled with lusts
For innocent maidens of Earth,
From the forces of nature personified,
The clays from which the gods are molded.
Young thoughts shy from imagining
The forty million minutes of their lives
Filled with breathings in and out
One billion times,
The pail or two of tears upon which to launch
All tragedies, major and minor.
And then there are the thirty thousand
Sunsets and sunrises with equality of quantity in
(If one is in luck) breakfasts, lunches and dinners.
It is difficult to calculate in bulks both accurate and rational
The cows, the pigs, the fish, the fowl, and in complement,
The carrots, the potatoes, peas, stalks of celery and leek,
And other vegetable matter (saprophytic and otherwise),
Blueberries, strawberries, blackberries, apples, pears,
Guavas and other; loaves of bread, muffins, cupcakes,
Jellyrolls, petites fours, birthday cakes, and cookies,
And so on, difficult to calculate.
But not beyond modern capability.
And so, onwards to plastic bag the smiles, the grins, the chuckles,
The outright guffaws, the squeaks, the screams of terror,
Groans of pain, sniffles, sneezes, sighs, moans (both negative and positive),
The healthy belches and the evanescent stomach gases.
And then, there are the hats, the coats, the pants and the shirts and neckties
And the underwear, the socks and the shoes with shoelaces, garters and brassieres,
And a coterie of things of that nature.
Now forward to the watches, jewelry, bats and balls, marbles, golf clubs, pool cues,
Paper airplanes, yo-yos, forks, knives, spoons, plates and other dishes, napkins,
Facial tissues, handkerchiefs, toilet paper, books, writing tablets, crayons, pens, pencils,
Calculators, theater and film tickets, newspapers, travel tickets, and…and..and…
But why go on. You now are beginning to get a gauge of the materials
Which make up a typical life.
To calculate and collect all this is, possibly, difficult, but within modern capability.
Suppose – just suppose,
We packaged all this
And said to the average five year old,
“Here is your supply, your total life to see,
Right in front of you.”
Would all dreams die?