Becoming of Thought

It’s easy to think nothing (not for me)–
It’s how most people live (but I am plagued
By never-ending thought–what luxury
To think about nothing). I’ve often begged
For silence, thought’s inaction (it’s an act
Performed by neurons using what they’re fed
And thus thought has no being) to refract
Us to a state I’ll only meet when dead.
When thinkers think to concretize their thought
To become being, being-thought, at last,
They turn to making, poetry, not nought
Embraced by nihilist, iconoclast.
And yet unthinking order guides each mind,
Unthinkers, thinkers both, to all they find.

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