Solution Dreams
  

Suspended particles drifting in green murk,
Pouring and tumbling in light-shot clarity,
Threatening each other as much as us --  
The stones and cobbles, dust and wood,
Spin through olive water.

My thoughts and deeds spin that way,
Randomly intersecting,
Fundamentally similar of material,
But wrought by the environs into dissimilar shapes,
Pounded into pieces.

Thought trails pour like water, now roaring,
Now sliding into nothingness through gravel and earth --  
In some places running uphill in delight for Whelan and Escher.
Safety lies in some lanes, while in others
Apparent security tears thoughts away in riptides,
Or grating passages through unexpected sinkholes,
Tossing you up in unexpected and sometimes rapid
Streams that are nowhere on any map,
Even if one could be found.

Narrow, deep, swift-running those channels
Appearing broad, slow-moving on the tops of those waterways.
See the thoughts and wonderings, running over the paths,
Carving them from the stone of a personality?
Pounding and reshaping here; subtly eroding there;
Building up a careful sediment in an inside bend which may yet become an island --  
Can you see the patterns of endurance and change?

Feel the resistance at this trait?
Granite, that attribute, unyielding and unbreaking.
This habit is limestone.
Given heat or pressure,
It would coalesce, become fine-grained marble, solid, stolid,
Beautiful in its intricacy and strength....

Water, though, carves it swiftly away, leaving
Stone eroded, clouding the thoughtways,
And settling to the bottom as murk.

Little shows clearly.  Much is buried and blurred,
With an occasional outcropping of recent or vivid
Memory rising in startling prominence.
Is it worth the excavation,
The clearing of old anguishes, sharp-edged to the touch,
The shock of  forgotten joys?

Does anyone remember what's down here?