On a falling leaf comes seasonal change, in the forest that grows in my imagination lives creativity. Here sadness inspires growth.

A stroke in time is a drop of
paint slowly dripping down the
canvas in my mind.

Memories breathe upon the shimmer of paint, my mind soaks up the details like a sponge as my hands bare the grind and process.

I can write what I paint, I can
paint what I write. No paint drop is forbidden and no poem is forgotten.

I have a river of ideas flowing free from my mind, I am a dreamer with a pencil in one hand and ideas in the other.

Sad me drifts on the Sea of dreams, as ideas fall like leaf's landing on the black mirror Sea, reflecting my thoughts as twinkling stars the shimmer underneath my boat is magical.

In a moment of vivid clarity
my reflection bursts into billions
of ideas, shooting across the endless sky like stars.

I woke.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton