Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
a game called life.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
and you are given a specific name.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
where all the roles are set.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
where all the actions are planned.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
where everyone is doing their own thing.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
and you don’t even know you’re a player.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
where everything feels real.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
and you are given many things to play with.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
where you even have your own place.
Imagine that you are thrust into a game,
where there’s no view that it’s not a danger.
The story of the poem
Sometimes, an opportunity arises to see the bigger picture, or simply life as it is. Where there is no suffering or pain, only a perspective where everything feels like a game. A view that allows you to see everything from the outside, not caught up in the chaos of daily life – not buried beneath it.
The ancient wise ones may have hinted at this in their writings – that life should not be taken too seriously. Even while participating in it all, one should not become its victim – without suffering.
In this way, this poem appeared on the morning of October 15, 2024 – in the crispness of a fall day, in its gentle purity. A simple and lighthearted game, using what is unused and owning what is unowned.