INSOMNIA
I sift through fleeting thoughts-
flowing pools of perceptions-
tangled webs of words
How can I say what cannot be said?
How can I give form to such chaos?
Then words, they come-
tumbling,
twisting,
turning,
burning,
bursting forth
with such a force.
An intensity unrivaled-
Then ideas, they flee.
And finally, I find
that my mind feels free.
Free as a feather
now falling,
floating,
drifting off-
into dreamtime.
©
Johnelle Warren. 2002-2005.
