Caveat: Poem #1000

A part of every day just writing:
The sky is gray and raindrops hang;
How is a life like this exciting?
Oh wait, a bird unseen just sang.
Unfinished tasks remain regretted;
So forests' moods persist, abetted.
And still a thought will come along:
No fish will come; no time is wrong.
Despairing then, perhaps I wondered...
Preparing rows of trees or words
On paper or on wings of birds-
Exactly ten times, by a hundred-
Momentous thoughts and aimless streams
Suspend what's real. Behold the dreams.