The mind is all things, the architect of our waking dreams. To dream is to experience real things, they aren't as fake as they seem. It only seems the world is full of things composed of things that don't matter. I argue that everything is relevant in this realm of endless matter. Etherical thoughts solidify constructing the world we see. What's outside is really within, internal thoughts come to be. I'm expressing what's inside of me, so you partake in yourself. We all eat from the same tree; this world is fruit of the self.
Categories:
etherical, wisdom,
Form: Prose Poetry
Eternal hope
In the ditches of a sandy lane where I once lived
tiny etherical bushes sprung up overnight
Brilliantly green as floating in the air, they were
born by the wind and were a child’s first dream.
As dreams, they didn’t last long, a week at most
one night they flew away, a fairytale untold.
At dawn, before other animals awoke, rabbits
sat hearing a whisper of time eons gone.
In burrows or in homes, the dream appears
often in the form of a lullaby, we call it hope.
Categories:
etherical, abuse, break up, integrity,
Form: Prose Poetry