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
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