[Ditto conscience and originality]
All the little droplet children
With excitement, leave the sky.
Bustling, rushing, see they not when
Mother Cloud begins to cry.
As winged wind is flying past them, [As the wind is flying past them]
With eyes wide, they make no sound;
Till men know they've caught their breath when
Laugh they as they reach the ground.
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Stochasticity showcases just that--randomness, my randomosities: anything from poetry to thoughts about penguins and puffer fish. It follows my writing and traces my contemplations... Welcome to my world.
The writer who is a real writer is a rebel who never stops.
William Saroyan
1 comment:
Aww, so beautiful, Jay.
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