the world of wordy

 

words in the garden of the mind, 

they so easily come and go,

like blossoms that live to bloom 

and vanish in the flourish of the fade,

that have fragrances of emotion, 

filling the heir of self as inheritance

yet valued only in their passing.

words are driven into consciousness, 

as more in the air of awareness that provides,

for the inner dialogue is ever surfacing

with different species of concerns,

showing their faces to life,

living up from the bottomless sea of self

yet in definite need of surface for airing.

sustainability is in being brought to mind.

all living on a life-force diet 

that conscious awareness provides.

some noticed as topic,

some pursued as run-ons

some as diligence to do's,

some as emotionals brought into flares,

some as the apparent flexing of reactives,

some as dally and or the amuse of subterfuge,

some fancy themselves as forthright witty 

and some as dreams ,

as magicals brought to light.

days can seem like a feeding frenzy.

nights are asking of the submerged.

words, as ameba of thought provoked,

for the garden of the mind 

has many water features,

fountains of topics, 

pools of general concern, 

streams of thematics, 

bogs of issue-bounds, 

lagoons of thought styles, 

even puddles of confusion, 

ponds of passing the mind-time, 

baths of indulgences, 

and aquariums of friendship concerns. 

it is a word wonder, 

out of the presence of mind as liquidity.

if thirst could drink of itself,

where would we all be by now? . . .