Like drops of sweat
Just frivolous words
That drift on the air
Or waste rivers of ink
While no one is listening
Or nobody’s reading
The stream starts to flood
And a tree begins falling
A Poetic Dive into the Creative Unconscious
Like drops of sweat
Just frivolous words
That drift on the air
Or waste rivers of ink
While no one is listening
Or nobody’s reading
The stream starts to flood
And a tree begins falling