Odd, the second thoughts
How they always replace first
Like night does the day
Gradual degrees
A thought, growing from itself
Never finds its end
Mushrooms in the dark
Fears, feasting in the silence
Swelling from within
By day, only smiles
Sunlight sends away shadows
Washes all things clean
But when comes the night
Nothing to distract the mind
From its own thinking
Like raindrops, falling
Until there is a downpour
What feels like drowning
Then, I remember
As all things, this too, shall pass
Like seasons, fading
Nothing will be left
Except the coming moment
At dawn, the sunrise
Silly second thoughts
There will be third and fourth ones
No need to fear you
Tilling mental soil
Mushroom mulch enriching earth
Soon, better harvest
Laughing you away
What need have I for clinging
There are better things
Home of endless blooms
Gift of fear turned nourishment
Content, I can smile
Comfortable rest
Having fed the hungry ground
Peace in the garden