Buddha on a plane

Been flying, travelling and in transit for a while now. Took off early morning again to the cold land of Oslo. Watched the sun rise, saw the snow melt and just closed my eyes and stared at a blank. Few random thoughts came my way. Jotting them down.

Freedom

Strapped besides wings

Feels like a new flight to freedom

Where is it that I go? Who or what is it that I leave?

Is flying freedom? Or does it make me a captive to running away?

I can fly miles on end or stay put for years against the shores of an angry sea...

Freedom is when none of it matters

Freedom is when I am still in moving flights and transported when on the shore!

Silence

Can I be deaf to the noise around me?

Will I always need headphones to cut through it?

Will I need a song inside my soul to drift away?

Or will I truly be comfortable with silences?

Imagination

What I see with my eyes closed and mind open is inexplicably better than anything I have seen before.

Being

I am just a manifestation of my thoughts.

Love

Clear as ice, fluid like melting water, transient like vapour but without a state of nothing! Love eludes me!

Longing

I want you so bad! And yet I am willing to wait all my life in the hope that you will show up on your own. What if you are waiting too??