Sometimes, it takes but a small item, that which sends you off, spinning in a different direction, is it the Chaos theory, the butterfly effect!
To be honest, I have no clue, but in those moments, which are all to rare, something blossoms. Its pursuing some prose, perhaps its simply looking at the heavens above, a moment of solace, followed by clarity.
Whats sort of clarity?, that which be, in the eye of the beholder.
Structure or type, its backdrop, this for all I suspect varies. But with certainty I know, this moment we have, its had by all. Some frequent, some occasional and its blissful too boot.
What comes from the moment, its varied for me, I tend to find myself wrapped up in moments of history, phrases and spoken word, some heard, some read.
Of structure and vibrance to retain in my head. Some are violent, some of these are quips, that thread of a line, prose suspended in time which shall again come forth from some lips. The lips may not call, the words sent forth, drop to the page, for some it goes dark, put away for an age.
Others, see light, the bright glare of scrutiny, dissected and chewed, by many or few, the creator watching or eared.
Its a ramble this post, I hadn’t planned much prose, or rhyme if you so call it that, its just a moment in time to dump what I heard, in the head that is, just as it comes , now its planted here on the parchment.