Idealism is Refreshing; Time will do the Telling

A wee bit of hopefulness.

I'm not like you,

I see the clouds,

I'm not like you,

I see past the hills;

The hills of ordinary,

The hills of mindless routine,

I find, the days are not all just what they seem,

They build and they build,

Into an entire lifetime,

A lifetime of endurance,

Fueled by circuits with sporadic electrical currents,

The currents go on and off,

Depending on their motivation to spark,

They ask,

"Why go on?",

"Why push forward?",

Well listen closely; the answer is given,

Through the leaves,

Rustling,

Whispering,

Bustling,

Deciphering,

They argue with my intentions and calculate my potential,

They can't be too pretentious, but they can't be too differential,

Thus they turn to the wind,

The wind decides there is hope,

News travels to mine ears,

Tossing wisps of hair;

It tells me to have a care,

Blowing softly,

Just so I catch it in my lungs,

Enough to breathe in, breathe out,

And take another step forward.