Taylor

Thoughts are like water

They can be deep and shallow

They can be salty and fresh

How they shape the land

A turgid wanton current 

Sweeping away its victims 

Maybe limpid still

Eternally resting still

In humanity's instinct 

Reactionary

A polluted stagnant pool

Where the mind withdrawals

Release the flood gates

And let them run to wander

Free and flow down lapping 

Over rocks and dirt