Of mine who goes on
Scribbling word after word.
Sentence after sentence.
Stopping for a while to
Search for words and then
Go on in rhythms with a
Set flow.
This simulation that runs
In my head, flowing around
Like a river in search of
New oceans.
I feel the tones, the pauses.
Breaths taken when I
Run out of words and swish of
Wind when a good sentence
Strikes my head.
It's an unstructured play of
Aligning lines, before something
Translates on the paper.
While I stood looking at
The burst-crackers in the street
From the previous night's
Celebrations-
I toppled over an idea and
The subsequent stream of
Thoughts landed me in this
Poem.