What If !

Miguel Santiago
2 min readMar 7, 2024

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Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

What if we lingered at the edge of unexpressed ideas and unspoken words? At that moment, we may find ourselves in a dance with a constantly changing vocabulary. We might witness the punctuation of existence reflected in the unseen stars scattered across the sky.

Picture a location where significance flows like a river through territories of reasoning that remain unexplored and uncharted. In this place, words are the water and the path, but they don’t lead to clarity. Instead, they lead further into a dense and impenetrable thicket of thought.

What if we wander not to find but to comprehend the incomprehensible? In a maze made not of stone but of muttering of ‘perhaps’ and ‘maybe’, every ‘what’ and ‘if’ is a door unshut, swinging on hinges of hypothesis. It leads not out but inside to rooms of riddles wrapped in enigma.

Let’s consider the pattern of vortex and the grammar of spatters. Sentences flow like streams into rivers of abstraction. Paragraphs are reflective ponds, bottomless and bearing the weight of clouds, heavy with the rain of weakened reason.

Have the audacity to start a dialogue with the divine, Where questions are errands, and answers are but rebounds and rebounding off the walls of the well of wonder, a thesaurus labyrinthine, where meanings multiply, merge, and deform?

In this garden of moving symbols, speaking is equivalent to spelling, and listening means being lost in a collection of leaves. Each leaf contains many stories and rumours of time that have never been told. Can we, just for a moment, be receptive and responsive to the present moment?

This puzzle of prose, where clarity cloaks itself in the costume of confusion and simplicity, is trapped in the firm strands of elegance, letting us not untangle but tangle further into the heart of the mist of this verse.

What if, in this wilderness of words, we mumble our charms, sending them sailing like ships into the night, gentle navigators, seeking not the shore but the sensation of floating adrift in an ocean of luxury, obscurity, prosperity, unpredictably?

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Miguel Santiago
Miguel Santiago

Written by Miguel Santiago

In the silent voices of my heart, I walk alone, where shadows weep and dreams lay shattered, like remnants of a storm long past.

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