When Thoughts Begin To Feel the Stream

Not yet once more a narrative of depressive introspection enough is enough and who wants to read that cloudy gloom of times blasted by the sand of scraping of the shaving dusk Lamentations ‘I used to be this and like that’ professions of success a story of light entertainment under a panoply of easy rushing flow ifs and buts now ‘could have should have would have’ did I really A touch of mania mangled in machination of defence distortion projections of mechanised dissolution of a hungry soul in waiting lightning of dark ignitions of void and numbness just the same Prisms of condensed reflection waiting to destruct dismantle a here and now and there and then search for meaning of meaning of mindfulness and sensing nonsense’s scent and sense The corrosive sand in my hourglass has turned a shoreline sure line in which all tides seek tenderness where is what is and will be one as torrents have dissolved for now to silent foam and form of motion Lowered by expectations aspiring from cascades and shallow mooring longing for some drifting wood conversed into a beach hut of simplicity quietude and the dogma of ‘higher faster longer’ no longer but easier Today without nostalgia a little more removed from the whirl pool from self-righteousness a little tad embraced by what I hope is to be humble a safety net and also my life buoy anchors firmer in the river that moves To the ocean and two rivulets speak loud and clear to be happy with apathetic inertia to be contained and drowning kept at bay and without hurting sentient beings not harming you nor I Those thoughts begin to catch my fish to fry and feeling them breeds a cautious slow and tentative fermentation wherein ballast and burden is unfastened without too much mental agony and injured attainment The beauty of a starfish the ink on paper and an octopus’ eight noble truths maybe a dolphin retreating in those stark and shark infested feeding grounds embrace emotions of where my heart wishes to be 22 March 2018