Freeing the Rumination
Pen to paper, thoughts start to mound;
I'm paralyzed in their screaming sound.
They circle, again, circle around
and push me deeper until I'm drowned.
I listen to their ceaseless pound
and breathe until the source is found,
close my eyes: accept, surround.
A string of thought unwinds, unbound.
Open eyes, exhale, and frown,
trying to find some starting ground.
Some peasant knight appears, is crowned.
Exhausted, I write it down.
This poem is about:
Me