As words patter on a myriad ears in here,
Out there - a patter of rain drops
We try to define, describe, capture
Outside, there is a letting-go
A million droplets gather, merge, shed
While a million more condense overhead
A million thoughts, here, waiting to crystallise, form
Merging, shedding (perhaps) is still afar
They just float around, tied - like kites on strings
A gust here 'n there tips the balance
As the drops gather, the leaves tip over
Crystal beads on emerald beds of glade
Here, the mind is the bed - so soft
Absorbing, soaking. Some beads run right off.
A break in the clouds - a break in thoughts
A glimmer of clear sky and then the drizzle again
The rhythm is soothing, predictable, known
Like a cushy sofa where nothing is new
Just sink in, let the thoughts sink in - there're so many
The path of least resistence is perhaps the best
Oh bother! These patterns bore the mind
But it gives the space to get lost in
A maze to wander through - endlessly
You know the corners, smile and move on
Out there, the patter is drawing to an end
Or is it just a pause, before a greater onslaught?
The emerald beds bend no more, just a sway maybe
The crystal beads lay scattered
Like the thoughts that broke free from the kite strings...