A poem

Last night after getting home I picked up a book to read a little before I went to bed as sleep is still sometimes elusive for me and I suddenly thought of this poem for no reason at all.

The calling

I sit by a brook
With a sandwich and book
Then brush a strand of my hair
Wipe a tear from my eye
Suddenly I ponder the question of why
Have I read something between the thin lines?
Has something ignited?
Has something been drawn from my mind?
Has the echo of time swelled and become flowing
Have I suddenly become the one that's all knowing
As I sit by the brook with my thoughts and a sandwich
and course a good book

it just makes me think that our minds play strange tricks on us.