Ideas flow effortlessly off the page and swim in front of your eyes,
Like walking along a sandy beach and gazing out to the sea.
The ripples of sunlight flicker and change, change and flicker.
You can't catch them or hold them with your look, they will not be caught.
They slip through the fingers of your gaze with nimble movement skipping on laughingly, jeering at you, jumping, dancing, squirming, giggling.
They elude you at the moment you perceive they are your own.
That you will capture them and keep them.
Take them home to your loved ones.
Show them off to the neighbours.
Then you must pull your gaze away for you realise it can never be so.
And even as you look down, the grains of sand slip between your warm toes.