To trace a thought
to its inception
seemed a worthwhile task ..
the mind had sown a seed that flowered.
But how, I ask?
I stared into that inward space to concentrate ..
the trail is cold;
perhaps I’m looking in the wrong place.
But no; distractions obscure the path, I realise ..
like weeds, they proliferate.
I close my eyes.
Why seek the beginning?
Why waste time on that?
That thought is born, will live a while and die ..
Questions to ponder; I turn them over like a plough ..
on them I ruminate ..
Have I stumbled upon a truth?
It is not the conception of a thought I sought
but the genesis of I … .