On Thinking
In wandering the twistings of my mind
I could walk forever and never find
each growing thought, each birthed perception -
Every moment brings a new conception.
The most astounding thing on thought,
is that even when unfailingly sought
and searched out every night and day -
there is nothing that can stand in the way.
I can´t switch my mind off, or on;
like I can´t take the music out of a song...
Every moment it stands firm and steady.
It doesn´t wqit until I´m ready
to deal with issues I don´t want...
It hurls them at me, jumps in front!
Then I have no choice, ´cept be hit or catch.
My mind stalks free from cage with latch.
So, who am I? Is my mind ´me´?
Am I It´s prisoner, or am I free?
Will I ever figure that one out?
Or is wondering what I´m about?
Copyright © Tanya Bunge | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment