Wishlist

Quit the job.
Keep the money that is cash.
Burn all that is plastic.
Bring home a pet dog.
Grow a garden at the backyard.
Name each of the plants.
Get the driving license.
Buy a vintage Norton.
Ride to the Himalayas.
Keep a beard.
Get your head shaved bald.
Live with the monks.
Learn farming and timing,
without a watch.

Make a boat.
Sail the world.
Build things. Break barriers.
Write that book with a pen.
Marry the woman.
Hold your baby
with the uncut umbilical cord.
Raise a family.
Teach your daughters
how to dive into the
deepest of water
and build a house with
a single knife.

Buy a Leica.
Chase the Northern Lights.
Move to Antarctica.
Live in a Igloo.
Run with a sled dog.
Travel in Transsiberian.
Read “Remembrance of things past”.
Fly an aeroplane.
Jump from the sky with a parachute.
Stay alive and vanished.
But don’t make such
a desperate wishlist.

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Note : Inspired by a poem written by Charles Bukowski.