Synchronicity waits upon
The fullness of its time
The knotted threads and
Ferrets out the rhyme.
I’ve no more control upon
Those random threatening words
Than I have upon those thoughts
That fought their way into
The back door of my mind.
I stop to find some distant
Crashing sounds of waves upon a shore;
Flotsam left behind that bore me
Safely up from Maelstrom Depths
To walk once more upon this beach,
To contemplate the silly flotsam rhymes
That bore me safely home again
As once before.