Process can be boring. I pretend to hear my stomach growl
and look for easy crumbs to keep the boredom at bay,
but in desperation, like sea turtles eating plastic bags,
I turn to distraction
snacking on short forms that fill
my head like packing peanuts.
I allow all my thoughts to evaporate,
drift away, and in their time, dissipate.
I sit in the sun, and let the crash of the waves
keep my head full of nothing.
I wait. And listen. To the waves, saying
shhhhh over and over.
I get bored. I’ve forgotten that I can get this bored.
I try to trust the process. (I do not.)
I let the boredom settle. It coats the bottom of my mind.
At length, it tempers my concentration. And when it does,
the clouds come back, my thoughts rain down
and I collect them in a silver basin,
which I can gaze into and see myself looking back.