Yesterday’s poem written before a long drive through some yucky weather. Too heavy to be called mist, too light to be called rain. Just wet enough to make the roads fun to drive on and seep into everything.
This morning’s poem brought to you from that “I don’t know where this is coming from” part of my mind. I’m honestly not sure if it’s a form of insight or simply my attempt to process everything that’s going on lately in the world. There just seems to be so much…
Had some interesting thoughts about the nature of thought, the transformation of thought into action, the process that undergoes, and how the way we choose to think, the thoughts that we focus on and allow ourselves to have, shape who we are and what we are capable of. While dwelling on this I reread Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” and the idea of thoughts following highways in our brains that we have constructed occurred to me. Hardly a new concept but it stuck with me and insisted upon being today’s subject.