I believe everything and nothing
from one moment to the next.
If you look at me you can see
right through me.
I am what you want
me to be.
I have no form.

I will mould to your views
but after a while
I will have reformed to
my original shape.
I am an enigma.
I am everything and
I am the wind on the hill.

I am an actor in a play
where I don’t
even know my own name.
Ask me to play myself
and I am flummoxed.
If I leave no footprints,
have I ever been here?


No man’s land


No Man’s land

Where am I? Neither alone or
together.  No rest and security
nor the privilege of being free as
a bird. Or at least thinking I’m as free
as a bird. But then catching myself
thinking that I want to be caught or
in fact I am caught. Caught in a
web I weave for myself. Some would
say delusional, hopeful but based
on scant evidence which
is sometimes in my mind and then
sometimes not.

By Tim Jones 20/3/12