Making it up

by joetwo

I’m making it up as I go along you know

Each word, a flash in the proverbial pan

Not planned or expected, no forewarning or thought

Simply coming into being

As if summoned from the depths of who knows where

Extracted from the unknowable

Accessing this involves no process

No plan that I can derive

It just happens

By luck and the favour of the gods

No control and no guarantee of it occurring again

All that there is to do, is sit

And let the words flow

To give refuge to the train of thought as it is generated

And to record, for you dear reader

For what otherwise would be the ravings of a madman

Is here given substance, an audience

And purpose

The capricious zephyrs of my soul

Out in the world, free for all.