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Poem for current Writer's Cramp

Can you imagine a river continuously
Overflowing with torrents of chaos that can’t be
Understood or comprehended so is almost
Never acknowledged or seen until it is
Tamed by letting it sleepily spread out and lie
Down on vast, flat fields of meaning and
Order so that the odd bucket of it can
Wake up in a secret place that we each
Need to create the illusion of consciousness?