Had Imagination let me be, I’d be less greedy.

I haven’t ever sat down before this,
To tinker with my beliefs and related;
Because who ever really shelves those in?
Or checks on how what they believe is rated.

We believe what we want to believe,
Later flex our beliefs, just to grow.
We don’t stop or pause to make eye-contact;
Fearing the bad wiring might un-stow.

I myself don’t take out my measuring tape,
To size up that what endorses to appeal.
But I do nibble and gather the after-taste,
So as to agree with the disbelief ordeal.

I believe I can believe baselessly,
As long as I believe in me;
Considering that there’s the available option-
Of crediting miracles and serendipity.

After miniscule experimentation itself,
I’ve learnt that believing in the ‘other way round’,
Connects points A and B, managing just as well-
As the lines drawn on the ground.

Lines of belief may converge or diverge-
From a point that appears to float;
But if it rose from the very surface,
(Mustn’t it?) It must have mustered support.

I believe in trodding back-trackable routes,
And following arrows that vibrate;
I believe in additives and extracts,
That struggle to enunciate.

I believe in faith and patience-
And in effort that goes miles without praise;
I believe in recycling concepts and notions,
That have a clotting history of disgrace.

My beliefs find themselves in amusing places-
A gurgling gutter or a clogged chimney,
Places where I find people napping;
When I take walks with curiosity.

I believe in investments of passion,
And in expenditures of skill;
I believe in all jaded kindergarten concepts,
Like show-and-tell and then, goodwill.

Appreciation and feedback,
Seem to fervidly contribute-
To my beliefs of better expression,
Despite the languages in which we commute.

I subscribe to eagerly optimistic beliefs,
But keep myself tied to a practical’s yawl.
I believe that Humpty-Dumpty,
Wasn’t just about the great fall.

I believe there’s an embedded purpose,
In every movement that I can link.
Like how my eyeball widens, drawing tangents
With each fascinated blink.

I believe in zealot observation,
And attention to detail.
I choose to keep myself hungry,
As crumbs are an expertly disguised entail.

I believe that love and despair,
Are monochromatic shades.
Mixes of bright whites and black blacks,
Greys of varying grades.

I wander into underworlds,
To find more to believe.
Enlightenment, and in darkness,
That death and dying heave.

I counter disbelief with,
Experience of disbelief.
As till one doesn’t trust and fall;
There can’t be wisdom embalmed relief.

My beliefs also reside in-
Inspirational nothingness.
It’s tempting how there is a point,
And then the same point beyond which you may digress.

Constructivism fluidly travels,
My belief channelling nerves;
And comes jolting out my fingertips,
Stewing idea conserves.

I seem to some a dreamer,
And simply immature to some;
I come across as unreal,
For the quantum of beliefs I hum.

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