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Ebb and flow

Nothing is truly static.  Even the hardest stone’s molecules dance.  Likewise, as I decelerate into depressive states and become seemingly inert, thoughts accumulate. Spinning themselves together until they generate enough heat to emanate once again from this rock.

In times like these, when I have been radiating for some time and I cool, heading back towards inertia, I have tended to succumb.  To allow myself to become dormant.  And, I end up feeling like I could hit Absolute Zero.  This time, I have chosen to find warmth from another source.

Simply transcribing the words of another poet has transformed what is usually a hasty retreat into a gentle ebb.  Water still lapping against the shoreline as it unveils its influence on the sands of the beach.  Flow, not ceasing.  Rather, allowing for accumulation.  Adding to, not depleting the endless sea of inspiration there is to sail.


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