Myriad thoughts—rushing, gushing,
Torrents wild, no signs of hush-ing.
Ideas bloom and clash and spin,
A restless storm that stirs within.
Like rivers fed by rains unseen,
They tumble through the in-between—
Of heart and head, of then and now,
Of whispered dreams I disavow.
Some sparkle bright, like shards of light,
Some throb with fear through sleepless night.
Some wear the scent of past regrets,
While others breathe in new mindsets.
They crash on shores of calm intent,
Then shift again, their purpose bent.
Elusive, raw, yet strangely clear—
Each one a voice I long to hear.
So I sit still, and close my eyes,
Let thoughts arise, then vaporize.
For in the storm, I start to see—
The chaos births the calm in me.
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