today i touched grass

and let go of the past

with but a singular laugh

the stuffy air of my home 

reflected my mental stagnancy

every little frustration was suspended dust 

every fear, every condition of happiness my mind made up 

imagination’s dual edged sword wielded against oneself 

the mind with the power to create anything

choosing to create a prison cell

why?

…

but today i chose differently 

and won the argument against my mind

with but a singular response:

to those essays

novels

volume 1, 2, ad infinitum

of rumination  

I picked a flower,

and looked.

…

Silence.