Gathering Dusk Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Squares of intellect, many sizes and shapes, harping on corners of themselves, awaiting wisdom's decisions for areas of their spanning diameters.
Angles turning on edges, squeezing together for amounts of figures, hoping to formulate any number of beautiful artistic patterns being created as I write words down in processes of creative ideas.
Lanes spreading out into country roads, traipsing down dirt-filled ditches, wandering altogether aimlessly without any care or worries about what they'll find at the ends of their journeys.
Escaping jungles of entanglement, crossing fjords with tidal waves acting like a tsunami, covering everything in it's path.
Sending signs of weather-beaten eras out onto island's sand bars, gathering dusk as it goes, placing it all into vats of displaced energetic caverns set in time against any and all odds.
Serenity stopping any jumbling of thoughts so they maintain proper intellect of language.