Mind

Sometimes I think

my mind is an ocean,

endless ripples of thoughts

stretching into oblivion.

But other times I think

my mind is

a kiddie pool:

shallow, always skipping

from one thing to the next,

like kids grow up too fast.

In reality, I think my mind is as

human

as I am.

It is not an ocean, or a kiddie pool,

or a rapid river drowning

unsuspecting victims.

It is a human.

One who wades through oceans, splashes in

kiddie pools,

canoes in rivers,

and catches fish in lakes

and grows old

and tired

and is full of flaws

and perfections

and drowns.

My mind is not

a lake,

a river,

a puddle,

a sea

a pool

a canal

a stream,

no, my mind is me

and I am my mind

and when I sink into a river,

I do not join it

in a delta,

a beautiful crossroads.

I just drown.