Wandering

I wander on uncertain roads,
Upon a certain path.
And where I wander who can say?
Until I wander back.

I ponder on a certain thought,
And wonder where it goes.
Is there a graveyard somewhere close,
Where buried thoughts can go?

Do they become the fodder for
The better thoughts that come?
Or do they lie there, waiting,
Till their bones, to dust have gone?

I think that they wait for
A thought, to blossom more,
And give its roots the nourishment,
To bring up half a score.

And thought on thought,
And wave on wave, from the mind
Begin to soar; Until the mind
No longer waits for oceans at the door.

And then the mind, it launches out
Upon a sea so green. Until it
Finds another thought that
Waits beyond the sea.