Thoughts don't come as a coherent stream, explicable dialog, or a memorable dream.
They just flash across....a couple of words - earth, fire, water.
Or in a disconnected line, as if, some mystical self living inside me, started to write it, but changed it's mind midway.
Till I lay my breath to rest......a cold winter noon, a mocking sun.....
Or just a flashing image of something that happened, that could have happened, or that didn't happen at all, that I wish would happen, that I don't wish should ever happen.
Or a still life....a leaf, a horizon, a smile, a twinkle, a smirk.
It takes effort, to put the pieces of this puzzle together, and know what my mind is trying to tell me, what my heart wants me to hear.
But if I don't put in the effort????
Will I turn deaf to that mysterious voice, or will it still scream louder, clearer.
I don't control it, it controls me. The urge to listen and decipher. The passion, the curiosity, the adventure within. They might be some of the things that drive the urge.
But what is it that stops it?
What explains me to myself when I choose not to know?
No comments:
Post a Comment