Sometimes....

sometimes, when i look at the world
through one narrow window
of the airplane,
i shrink about the idea of jumping
off again
(which i once tried when i was too confused
to take another day
of life, during one of those lousy college days,
when life seems to be too
saggy, like a carpet losing hold of
its thick threads,

sometimes, one has to look at the clouds
thick, white, cottons, up there
to know that, well, there is nothing certain
about everything

up there
or down here
there will always be
chaos.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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