Enormously: Word Flurry

Writing
Was this easy,
Before I thought I knew
What I was doing

And now
It’s easy again,
When I’ve forgotten
Whether or not I know what I’m doing,

Still I pause for thought,
Along the way,
Reflecting upon
Whether or not I’m making sense

But if not,
Whether or not
I ought to be concerned about
Whether or not I’m making sense.

Creativity
Is such a funny thing,
How can I know it when I see it?
How can I tell?

And, what’s sense anyway?
I’m not sure
I remember that either;
I’ve dropped that thread all together,

And next I’m thinking
Of tea,
Vacuuming
And making supper,

Going to work
And coming home again,
Braving the inclement weather,
And of how easily
These words slip out together.

En masse: Infinite Reaches

My words
Just keep falling,
Like autumn leaves
Upon the page

And after a while,
Even I
Forget what they mean
Or what I thought they meant,

As autumn follows summer,
Winter follows autumn,
Spring follows winter,
Year after year,

So words
Follow words,
Endlessly,
Day after day,

But does anyone remember
The first bird
That began to sing
Last spring?

Or
The first word
Ever spoken
Or written?

Does anybody know
When that was?
And if they do,
What of it?

Was there
Ever even
A beginning?
And does that matter?

Enlivened: Goings On

I might as well
Just keep going,
As that’s the way
The wind is blowing,

It’s rushing past
Much too fast,
I’d like to slow it down
But how can I do that?

I know
Nothing about it
And can do nothing
About it,

It will slow
Or it will go on,
And who is it who waits
While it slows or goes?

You can’t base your life on dreams,
You’ve got to have the means
And either you do
Or you don’t,

Either the wind blows your way
Or it don’t,
Although if it does
You don’t know it,

For that would be too easy!
And so, so often people think
They’ve got it made,
When they’ve but turned another page,

It’s so difficult to gauge,
There’s no meter
And no instruction book,
We just make it up
As we race along it and get hooked.