ripples of words

Sometimes there is too much to say. The words rise up all at once and suffocate the message. Or there are too many messages and the words can’t come quick enough and there is fear that you will never get it said (what you need to say).

Sometimes there are no words. There is only the purity of experience, maybe an emotion. But no words come and you don’t try to summon them because they don’t matter.

In this moment the words are ripe with potential. There are hundreds of stories to sing and the words are flowing as the ripples in a pool that catches a waterfall. From all points where the waterfall contacts the pool outwards and outwards and outwards. Complex pattern of ripples; waves with many possible destinations.

I could start anywhere and get somewhere. I could start nowhere and bask in the hum of the infinite web of ripples.

I could pan out and see the whole pattern of interconnected waves. See them at their origin and at their destination simultaneously. Or I could hone in on one fragment and watch it flick in and out of existence, playing its predestined role in chaos.

I could and yet there's laundry to hang and dishes to wash and enemies to invent. So many possibilities for distraction.