Laying on your back in bed
keeping vigil in your private cave
thoughts squeeze through rock walls
like dripping water, forming tiny rivulets
going nowhere, not to any sea, not merging
triumphantly with the great everything at last
no, just evaporating before your eyes, forming
the pleasantly moist atmospheric cave ambience
where you hover in place like the central thought —
that one thought all other thoughts revolve around.
What if you just got out of bed now — you could,
you know, and strap on your waiting wings,
open the bedroom window, lift up and out
into the cloudless sky, don’t look back,
don’t give it another watery thought
go ahead, don’t hesitate, just fly!


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