Unedited divagation

Vermont forest in the Fall. https://www.flickr.com/photos/alecska/24739181942/

It begins
a flutter
an itch
then I start talking to myself
in my mind palace
the words resonate
echo
float
align
a sentence
a phrase
a stance
a paragraph
a sonnet
then I push them away
I have other things to do
real matters to tend to
but they come back
they always come back
same sentences
same stances
we are here
and we are many
we brought friends
like madness
i guess
i am just a channel to the voices
that pierce my neurons
like a crystal
that sparks one intense ray of light
into a palette of pastel colors
arranged mathematically and esoterically
from coldest to warmest
from ideas to clarity.

-Day #8

Originally published on EveryBreakingWave.
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