Thoughts on thoughts

Thoughts are like sparks flying up from a fire. They are bright for a moment and dazzle the eye, and then they cool and turn into ash and are forgotten and powerless. Each moment, if I’m paying attention, I can hear the stream of thoughts in my head. Where do they come from? Where do they go? They shine for a moment and then are forgotten, but in the moment, it seems they do have a power. Maybe some are true, maybe some aren’t. Maybe they should be considered, maybe not. It doesn’t really matter the quality of the thought, most are doomed. So why listen in the moment? Why care about them at all? Why not let them drift as their essential nature demands.