Wandered

My mind wanders and fails to tell my inattentive self where it has been. Maybe it is gathering revelations while I watch the ordinary world. Maybe someday it will reveal to me thoughts in the calls of birds and words on the wind. Or maybe it only dreams, while I remain here among the leaves and grass and flowers and their dust. I like to think that it has found secrets for which I am unready, but there is no certainty in that. It could be that it is merely absent, and someday will wander and not return while I fade like evening light. Should star emerge I'd like to be ready, but otherwise the lack of any surprise will not surprise me. The world is a strange place, but no stranger than myself, two places at once, each unknown in its own way.


( Sunday Verse )

Tick

Today's overcast brought sprinkles by early afternoon, and later some drizzle which has continued past nightfall. The rain is probably barely measurable, but it smells nice, and it has taken the pollen from the air. Despite the bit of water, the frogs are silent tonight. The loudest sound I hear is the slow drip of water in the drain pipe from the roof. Its tick... tick... tick is like a clock running down until time stops. If it stops before morning maybe I'll finally get enough sleep.