An Elegy of Thought

I had a thought that died today,
It was never written down,
I smiled when I had it,
But now can’t help but frown.

The thought shone hopeful lights,
Upon my dusty mind,
It made my eyes shine true,
And helped my gears to grind.

But thoughts unwritten float away,
They harden to obsidian,
Like fungal spores in gentle breeze,
They float calmly to oblivion.

In great frustration, now I wonder,
What could that thought have done,
If I had held it long enough,
Could it have been the one?

I feel a piece of me is gone,
From my aching core,
My sacred thought lies broken,
Scattered on the floor.

Yes, I had a thought that died today,
And I should have put it down,
I smiled when I had it,
But now can’t help but frown.

Author’s Note:
I wrote the first stanza of this poem a few days ago while standing in the hallway at the school where I teach. I normally carry my pocketbook during class transitions, but this time I’d forgotten it. I remember having a really good idea and reminding myself multiple times to write it down the moment I got back to my classroom.

Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out that way. As soon as class started, I got distracted. By the time I returned to my pocketbook, all I could remember was how many times I’d told myself not to forget.

It’s these “dying thoughts” that led me to start carrying a pocket journal in the first place. What baffles me is that—even though I’m on my third journal this year—I still have moments when those thoughts find a way to escape.

Still, I’m profoundly grateful for the ones I’ve managed to catch. Are they all life-changing? Certainly not. Yet each one makes me feel more human, more whole. And no matter how many I capture, it will always be the few that slip away that I’ll mourn.

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