Emanations: Don't Hold That Thought

I thought I had an idea
But then I lost it again,
How quickly the head-noise flickers,
So fast I can’t catch it,

But what’s this need for speed?
So what if I miss it?
Is it that important?
Or can I drop it and move on?

Still there’s so much here,
An infinity, it would appear,
Too much to corral
Or hold here and now;

I watch it come and go
And as I wonder
How it came to be
It’s already flown,

Like clouds blown
Across the endless sky,
Here for a short while
And gone in a moment,

Where do they go?
And from whence to do they arise?
I haven’t a clue
And at last just enjoy the show.

I’ll never get it written down
And so, finally let it go,
These boisterous notions
That flow past and disappear,

Until I barely recall
They were here,
I wave goodbye,
Get up from my seat and hang out
Another load of laundry to dry.

Elusive: Where’s the fire?

Alas it seems
That once again
I’ve run out of steam
And am going down the stream;

Not sure where
The flow goes or why;
Perhaps it’s the heat
Or the lack of sleep;

Whatever the cause,
Here it is
And even the tea
Brings on no revive;

And yet, I’m alive
But with nothing
To which to look forward
Except a rest;

Still, perhaps ho hum is best,
A welcome break between tests,
As it’s one or the other
That’s always in store.

Where does the in between go?
It must be around here somewhere,
Maybe one day I’ll find it
But then what will I find?

Having gotten oh so behind,
Nevertheless need time to unwind,
Take a little breather,
Prior to working harder;

Then off I go,
On another expedition,
To bring home the produce
Or produce.

Elliptical: Go Figure

Quite a week,
Never seen such heat!
And then the A/C went down
And there was grumbling all around;

Then when twas fixed again
Relief set in,
A temporary lull
Until the next complaint occurred;

But I’ll not delve into that
As tis just the usual scat,
Merely phenomena to observe
Before returning to the breath.

Finally an insight emerged
That lack of meaning
Does not precipitate a specific reaction,
Although accompanied by many moods,

These may be pleasant or unpleasant
But they are completely irrelevant
To the presence of a sense of pointlessness
But are purely practical instead.

If prospects appear to be well
Then in joy I dwell
But if I think I’m seeing oncoming bumps,
Then down I go into the dumps,

Upon how I think things are going
My spirits soar or plunge,
Not based on sense of purpose at all
Is my emotive rise or fall;

So much for Viktor Frankl
Who argued meaning is crucial
For happiness to be possible,
This may have mattered to him
But apparently not to this being.