I sit down
Prepare for
A long day of thinking,
A long day of considering.
Words race by,
Slipping, past my wandering thoughts,
And into the depths.
The depths of what?
Where do they all go.
They've slipped past my mind's defenses.
Loitering,
waiting to be kicked out,
Bad ideas.
Shifting, mixing.
Settling.
Swirling, at the bottom of the glass.
Not to be held back.
Back home again,
More thoughtless work,
And when the straps are tightening,
Pushing, holding,
Forcing.
As it always does
Sleep comes.
Those feather kisses, on my forehead
Coercing, my racing mind,
to sleep.
To rest.
And here I am, flitting between,
Reality and realism,
I sleep.
Because sleep, is where blurring images, come into focus.