It was impossible to listen

when they said, “be still.”

My heart ran for miles and

thoughts cranked overtime,

churning three new ones

for each one I built before.

How could I be still when

there was so much to be done,

so many miles to run,

so many stories that

certainly had a place to go?

But thoughts piled on the floor:

mountains to climb.

I picked through them

one by one,

claiming “this one’s mine,”

and “oh, that’s mine, too!”

When I did

they grew stronger to my touch

somehow becoming: me.

Then one day

a river came to mind.

Thoughts spilled into her

one by one and

I watched as they flowed

away from me,

down a waterfall.

Many times they’d return

many times I watched as

they flowed away from me

again.

Some days, I still chase them

down the river,

wanting to hold them dearly

against my chest and wail.

And some days I lay still,

watching them flow

as all my senses gather

to show me

there is so much more life

beyond the old crank of thoughts

in my mind.

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