The Rough

I never sit down with a plan

I simply shake my head

Whatsoever issues forth, sent to page from pen

Pensive thoughts aren’t worth a lot

I like mine unrefined

The beauty of a diamond before it’s cut to size

Moments fly by me en masse

No time to overthink them, for others will slip past

I spend my time in the rough, surrounded by raw beauty

The jeweler wastes their time, ever faceting and smoothing