The cup overflows;
left out in a storm, it did what it could.
I watched the glass fill with new drops, pushing out the old,
the same element both forceful as it stood
defenseless as it fell:
itself/another, everything/nothing
My thoughts are much the same, these days.
Defenseless as they rise up to reframe old ideas,
Forcefully…they come to mind, anyway. Fearless.
I could stand as strong as these lofty visions, unafraid to drop from clouds heavy like rainwater-
down, weighty, spreading
into the earth.
To fall and become part of something.
To release and be more than thoughts.
For now, I am the cup: thought-full barrier to earth and water.
Filling up and spilling out seems the only way.
The storm is the answer.
This cup overflows.
With time, I’ll return to my element.
