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The way it is

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I just heard a poem
said to be, possibly, one of the most
brilliant poems ever written

In all of its brilliancy,
about pyramids and flaming viking ships,
I got lost.
Lost in thinking of other things.

All too often, not being forced
to read something for ourselves,
or listen and regurgitate it back,
our minds wander.

Some thoughts are triggered
by a quick glance at an object
that sparks a memory of some kind.

Other thoughts come to us
when the morning rush has subsided,
and our minds aren't solely focused
on what our body is doing.

Instead, our minds are allowed
to be flooded with the things
we store in the back of our head.
Only to be released when we have
time set aside just for ourselves.





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