A stir in the air brought a scent of unease to the nostril, alarming the writers sensibilities and panic nearly caused an immediate end to his writing of the day! Settling down a bit at the keyboard, he began again, trying to find words that would convey the troubling thoughts careening through his mind. Focus did not come easily , so banging out words,then erasing and starting again seemed to rekindle his desire to get said what he needed to say.
The night before, dreams, swirling throughout his slumber, had brought about a restlessness not
acknowledged before. The ideas and dreams of yesteryear interfered with the ‘realities’ of today, so much that the need for purging his mind by seeing the confusion in print consumed his soul and he began:
A troubled mind is mine this day, I hope for words to come my way,
So that I can write them down
and ease the confusion that surrounds
Every fiber in my being, every feeling in my soul.
Between my ears , where thoughts did grow, seems nothing moves, just a hole
Where all I see and all I learn falls deep within and does not come back again.
The mining for vocabulary begins and slowly the realization sets in,
Nothing truly was forgotten. Only misusing by not using had oxidized the thought process,
The fears were misbegotten!