Thoughts (2)

My automatic thoughts unfold
As well as any play
Which wowed the crowds in days of old
But now is laid away.

Instead of getting on that train,
I watch its passing by;
I’m not a cloud that’s full of rain
But sheer unending sky.

And, when I do succumb to one,
As used to be my wont,
My mind’s illumined by the sun,
And, hence, I simply don’t.

I’m that which know I know I know,
Not that which goes where thoughts would go.

Photo by Silviu Zidaru on Unsplash

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