Baby porcelain doll, the last one her daughter had ever held, burst into sharp shards as it hit the floor
Releasing so many emotions in her, some she thought she had closed within that small casket
Everyone around her just stopped and stared, silent, not knowing what to do or say
As she watched those pieces scatter she started drowning in a psychological flood
Keeping the tears away was impossible as she felt something inside of her…
Capricious thoughts scatter across his mental landscape
Reason and emotion decorate his headspace with the creative and the banal
Everything coalescing into a morass of possibilities and probabilities
A prime candidate for the existence of a higher purpose
That life is not just reacting to environmental stimuli and hormones
Unless it concerned her smirk
Reducing everything to its most primal place
Especially as she purred, kneading him, keeping him awake
Cupped hands holding all the ideas I had
And I am running to find the places they all need to be planted
Reaching my first destination, I try to plant just one idea
Really screw up and most tumble through my fingers to infertile ground. Devastating!
Yet after a period of mourning I rush on, and something miraculous happens. My hands refill!
Oh if I knew ideas would repopulate I would not have been so careful in the beginning
Now you know. Rush and let your ideas scatter, and wait to see what awesomeness grows!