INNER DIALOGUE

BY CHRIS AINSWORTH

Stars intersect with the horizon off in the distance,
Or maybe just out of reach.
The mind is a tricky place to find bearings.
Is the thought new, only a few feet off?
Or treading water so long, time no longer holds meaning?
Ideas spread out like grains of sand in a desert of knowledge
And raindrops falling into an ocean of awareness.
Coming adrift or washing ashore
To be found by the first wandering notion.
The inner voice always in flux, full of authority.
Directing principles to the rightful place
Before waxing on about the stardust that fills us all.
Then explaining the moment,
As if an audience awaits explanation.
Always the same boys, but ever-changing.
The prattling of the inner self. | CH

CHRIS AINSWORTH WAS BORN IN PORTLAND, OREGON IN 1982, AND IN TRUE 80’S BABY FASHION, WE SPENT ALL THAT TIME TRYING TO DECIDE WHAT HE WANTED TO DO WHEN HE GROWS UP. HE IS OF ITALIAN AND SCANDINAVIAN DECENT AND LOVES WRITING AND PHOTOGRAPHY.