Thoughts about Thought
Thought ought to be,
Pure, precise and princely.
It's a battered ball, but, bit, batted about,
Deformed - to conform - to today's haze.
Thus, inevitably, it's always somewhat crazed.
But still, thought ought to be.
So let me leave you with this one:
Where do yours come from?
To think is
To sink into,
To link into,
Past passing banalities,
Through ephemeral peripheralities,
Wool pulled over eyes.
To take hold of
To make bold with
All that is solid - satisfying - useful.
Thinking is the triage of treasure from trash.
This can be tricky,
Some trash is very sticky,
Some treasure too weighty and slippy.
But what we choose we amass
And often find it quite crass
That others lambast our pickings.