Big game hunter.

Like trophies these thoughts hang decapitated on my wall, pinned there for proof that they were once had. I keep them there, afraid that if I don't, I will forget them and their meaning. A worrisome braggart I stuff and mount memories, holding tightly to the values I've assigned, but all this leads to tension and I grow weary. Slowly the realization surfaces that thoughts and ideas are living, and I should not cage them, but feed and nurture them so they stay close and become part of my immediate world. The open mind is one in which the dynamism of life runs freely.