Of the zillion things buzzing in my head
One takes more precedence
For only a moment before it is lost
Replaced by a new thought
That I struggle to hold on to
Thoughts flee my mind
Like bees disturbed
A torrent is sometimes unleashed
That my hand finds hard to match
At times it’s a bog
Sucking in everything, never to be heard of again
How to recover fleeting moments
Pause. Stop. Hold. Grab.
Now only if they would stay still
A butterfly catcher has his net
I keep notes
Little pieces of paper
Scattered everywhere
Jottings of vague ideas
Barely making sense
But vital to my being
Ideas, questions, thoughts, answers
Seeking acknowledgement
Pick me, choose me
The thoughts seem to say
A bizarre dance of competition
I never asked to be part of
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