Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Quicksilver Fancies

Sometimes my thoughts escape me
like the quicksilver fancies
of a mildly psychopathic
but ultimately benificent kitten
where it doesn't know
which plaything to choose first
I flit from inspiration
to fascination, from dream
to thought to idle musing,
borne by currents
of which I have no ken
letting the tide take me
to places I never conceived
I would go,
surrendering to Life's happenstance
like a submissive
to his Mistress' whim
knowing only that enlightenment
dwells in all places
and enchantment exists
in all facets of creation.

Like an adolescent Tom
I bat at one tantalizing idea,
only for my eye to be
caught by another,
which I pounce upon,
drawing it close to me.
I rake it with every claw
of my exuberant creativity
until, losing interest,
I chase a mirage
around another corner,
losing all reckoning
of the thought
that drew me hence.

For that reason I despair,
for which dreams have I
brought to fulfillment,
and which have I forsaken?
But I can do no less
because the world lures me on.

I am caught there,
gyring high into the air...
aloft in the eye of the cyclone
to be left behind in some realm
I never dreamt I'd find,
living a life that seems
merely serendipitous.
Seeking the reasons why
it rains in China
when the butterfly sings.

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