Fountain

How long has it been since I last wrote... anything of consequence? Over the months, the words dissolved, then evaporated, some disintegrated, then sublimated into obscurity, back to where they came from, into figments of my imagination. All those words, all those thoughts, all the jigsaws and pieces stumbling over each other helplessly, begging to be collected, to fit together, aching for order, all those shards, still in my head, still contained within, more fearful of spilling over, day by day, with each passing day.

But when were those last glimpses? June, March perhaps? It appears my only catalysts to words were journeys, joyous, physical, mental ones, magic trips, slivers of astonishing possibilities, fortresses of memories, purveyors of dreams.

Come spring, come fall. Come grey skies and pouring rain. The earth turns and I turn with it, never really looking around long enough to watch the leaves twist, bend, turn inside out, never to be the same again. Lost to this earth forever, lost to my world, out of my sight, out of reach. My eyes averted, eyes that skim over and look away, out of focus, choosing distraction, afraid of diving too deeply, too intently, and seeing too much. Comprehending too much, and watching it all flow away.