Beginning their way, thoughts are as soundbites,
flickering neon signs, fragments of words
the memory of scent that lingered in a lover’s hair.
Like scattered reflections
of a world that’s on the move
they assemble into reason,
which each step providing proof
that mind is path to find truth.
It was the feather I found
that reminded me of your hair
and all that came with a day on the beach.
My thoughts have found a true path, each.