Sometimes I wonder—
what am I trying to save
my irrational thoughts from?
From being stranded
in a sea
of sensible thoughts?
But only I know
how my irrational thoughts
splash their own strange colors
across the sensible ones.
Irrational, yes.
Incoherent, mostly.
Stranded, always.
Yet, how well they know me—
and how deeply
I need them.
How strangely coherent
they appear
to me.
Sometimes I wonder
if I am the one
doing the saving,
or if I am simply
being saved,
again and again,
mysteriously.
This piece is written in response to the three hundred and twelfth edition of Fiction Monday inspired by the word prompt – STRANDED hosted by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
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