Whirring of the mind
I dont divulge the whirring of my mind. The personal, the sacred thoughts of self are held tightly, bubble wrapped and consumed within.
Yes, I have opinions on politics, social, economic, cultural, art, on her, on him, on this and over that. And I write, I pour it out like blood in river Nile.
But the other side, the whispers of the soul, the crunching of the mind, the lyrics to the heart,
they sway.
No, they are broken rather, scattered, thrown here and there, it’s a mess,
and yes, the mind is on fire.
It screams, let it all out…
I chase them.
But they run, they sprint, they shout, words fail to assemble, the jumbled thoughts dont want to be coherent.
There is a worry. The pondering, the musings are but sacrosanct.
And, What if…
What if …they are shared but burn in the heat of this spectrum,
What if… they loose their way never to return.
No, I dont divulge the whirring of my mind. The personal, the sacred thoughts of self are held tightly, bubble wrapped and consumed within.
