Red means stop.
Green means go.
We learn lessons
As our time on this Earth flows.
The fork is on the left.
Knife and spoon are on the right.
These are things I understood
As my eyes caught a glimpse of the normals in sight.
The salt has less
While the pepper has more.
Are these rules or tendencies
Through our societies we explore?
Flipped up means it is on
While down means off.
If these rules were broken
Would we be okay or distraught?
Blue denotes cold
While red means it is hot.
Our world is full of lessons
In which we are taught.
A smile means happy
A frown something bad
A tear on the cheek surely means you are sad.
Two clock teeth pointing up means the start of a new day,
Then it happens again and it means we have made it halfway.
We navigate this world
Using the lessons we learn as we go.
I now stop and think
About how internally our minds flow.
I once saw it in a movie
I once read it in a book
This idea that we have helpers
On our shoulders are the seats in which they took.
They are navigation tools.
Internal regulation aids.
Their depiction unique
To the view our mind creates.
Perhaps they take form as little creatures.
Flowers, shapes or rocks.
Flowing continuums of feelings
Perhaps as views of people
With which our minds talk.
I have learned those external lessons
There are many more that could make the list.
They are perceived through the environments
That I walk through as I live.
For me, internally it has been different.
The navigation of those things in which I feel.
Understanding is easy to miss.
What if there were a ‘rule’,
A tendency
An action that they would expect
Which I saw in the world
But to my soul,
It did not connect?
An immediate hurdle in my path.
Tension in my jaw.
Who I am as a person
Does not mesh with those rules in which I saw.
Perhaps emotions, needs and feelings
Are not like these external lessons, black and white.
Perhaps inside our hearts
Navigation takes on a new light.
To understand.
To take in.
To regulate all that the days bring.
It is complex.
It is different.
From the external lessons we perceive.
Dare I call it muddy?
Messy.
A place that lands me immersed in fear.
Perhaps that idea of those helpers
Takes form to help when I am here.
When I am immersed in the mud.
When hurdles are in my sight.
When what I want on the inside
Does not mesh with the exterior in sight.
Perhaps they guide my understanding
Of the things I feel along my way.
Perhaps they help me adapt as I mold
Into the person I am
And will be one day.
