Rumination

I've contemplated what it might be like

To give up and give in because I’ve been

Shattered bits for a time and two quarters,

All amidst angry ferocious waters.

Somedays I find myself trapped in a cave

That I’ve mistaken for a safe haven.

I’ve never before seen a blue feather

Beam across a night sky nor have I seen

An ole owl sing  and not been mesmerized by

The miss-tree that is infinitely cloaked in its his-tree;

I consistently interrogate my own vigilance.

Every story that I have yet to write

Stems from instances of intersection and digression;

My mind exists somewhere between an ocean and a stream.