Wander

Mark Pol
3 min readJun 26, 2022

In my mind I wander about our fantastic planet. On which love should bloom like the flowers around us. On which peace should grow like fruit on the trees and shrubs that should cover this earth.

My thoughts wave in the rhythm of the infinite seas. My thoughts slide to the unfathomable depths of it. My thoughts rise to the infinitely distant sky above me. My feeling sweeps along the trees of this planet.

I melt with the ice of the poles. I touch the rocks of the lonely mountains. I travel with the rivers to the seas. I swim with the fish of all waters and try to touch them. I marvel at the beauty of this lonely planet. I listen to the laughter, the howling and screaming of Man, who is lost on this blue planet. I caress all the animals that look at me in amazement. I smile at all the insects that make this planet live.

I am amazed by the cruelties and misery that this race of people always inflicts on each other. I live on all the beautiful and wonderful things that this human race has created. I look in amazement at all the cruel and dictatorial human figures, who have absolutely no awareness of this infinite uniqueness and exceptionality of this lonely planet earth with everything that lives on it.

I bloom in the rays of the rising star, which makes our earth live. Our sun. I get carried away in the rhythm of day and night. I listen to the wonderful musical sounds of the birds.

How beautiful it is to be able to wander in thought and withdraw yourself within the safe limits of your dream. Knowing that beyond that, the reality of this planet is going to hit you hard again.

The reality of our inability to ever bloom with the love of the flowers around us. The reality of ever being able to live in peace as long as there is still a Human on this planet. To include ourselves with the denial of all aspects of our Human Species. With all the liberties we impose on ourselves over and over again

I wander to the top of a mountain. I listen to music whose rhythm takes me to other worlds. Worlds that probably won’t differ much from our wondrous planet.

I’m sitting there at the top of that mountain. The wind whispers to me: keep waiting, maybe later, maybe never. Keep waiting, keep hoping.

The music of Tchaikovsky — “Swan Lake”, makes me land again after all my wanderings. Landing behind my laptop in my apartment, adjacent to the real world, from which I tried to escape.

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Mark Pol

I am an artist:painter. I paint and draw. Its a kind of figurative surrealism. www.saatchiart.com/markpol