One word, two; veritable

stream of consciousness waterfall

onto screen, to paper (dependent

on each creator) – routine tremulous

as a string; musical or cordial.

 

A sigh for anxiety’s release, pressure

for output a constant even fresh air

and walking won’t dissipate.

One-two; one-two.

What choice this, day in, day out.

 

The sun shall rise and the brain

will wake, shout, cry, and demand

it be free from this, performance diurnal;

this, being always in review (sometimes

even before caffeination, too).

 

Even so, such heads will settle into habit,

crave emission of thoughts legible, perhaps

imaginative.  Then, comes the calm, after dark

and doubting clouds; then, will it be proved

that magic yet lives on, rising from the deep

to surface powerful – and with purpose –

in mind of Man.

 

 

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