Writing is an art form.
It is mine.
I can't always travel, can't always photograph
don't always get to sing
nor draw and paint -
Can't dance to save my life
(even in the embarrassing solitude of my own room)
But I can dream.
My mind takes walks on a frequent basis,
"Be Present" is a particularly difficult axiom to follow
Because if the mind is always present,
where do my thoughts go?
In the utter swirl of recall, memory and postulation -
thoughts leap frog across an entire lily pond before I catch myself.
And the only way to make sense of it, sometimes,
Is to write it down;
the sinking of a thought with a weighted stone
so it can touch the ground.
