I am but a vessel

What does it mean to be human?

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What are humans meant to do?

Am I meant to share that title with the people around me and be satisfied with it?

Is our job to create more misfortune and greed in this world?

If we are as infinite as our minds’ imagination, how can it end at something as simple as a solid?

Perchance, the essence of human significance is just that — to think of the endless possibilities, to have a mind as remarkable as the thought of life itself.

Yet to have our existence ceased because of something as inexplicable as death

The need to hurry to feel compassion, to touch the sea, to grasp life’s wonders before it’s too late.

Maybe we are but a vessel, like leaves on a tree, colourful and constantly changing, our destinies to be blown away by the wind.

I’m told to be human is to love, to find happiness regardless if they are blood related or not

I’m also told to be human is to constantly believe, to push forward with goals you set for yourself.

Perhaps both are what it means to be human, and to also have a creativity that goes beyond the laws of mankind.

If so, why are humans so diverse from each other?

Don’t we all hold the same motives?

We are all labelled as one but not one of us are truly the same.

To me, I have found that to be human is a million different things and a thousand different moments all put together

And if we are lucky they will grow into something more infinite than the minds we currently hold.

Maybe that too is what it means to be human,

To become a vessel to grow and plant seeds in the minds for generations to come,

The ones we will not be alive to help guide.

I am but a child, I am not sure, but maybe who we are and who we are meant to be is all an illusion.