Ideas roll around

The living water spring


Now enhancing

Now changing

Some’s chemistry

Some’s flavor



Some suggest refreshment

And beckon

Indicating usefulness

Steeping, moving,

They rise to the surface

Revealing what’s


But as yet unnamed

Offer a glimpse

Only to roll back

Still intact

But unready

Who knows why

Some appear and when?

Who knows the significance

Of the phrases or words that


Ready and ripe for plucking out

Panic can hit

Urgency shouts

That if not plucked

When presenting

– fruiting –

Death’ll come!

If not seized

The idea will become


Fade from memory!

Sink ‘neath the mire

Of unacknowledged oblivion!


The clear clean water

Roll and move

The bits,

Lulled by the



Sometimes settling in

The bottom’s soft sand

(Inviting as the clear spring above)

With the notion that

Who knows what such rich compost

May yet bring forth?

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