a prism

so dreamy,
      capturing that little fragment of time

from my      e y e s

sometimes I feel
as if the fountain of ideas
has run dry
like every poem, movie, book, song
is in one way or another
the same as another one
is it possible?
have we reached our peak?
will there ever be anything new?
fresh?
even this poem I am writing now
is it just recycled material?

Gather me upon the wind,
       so I may whisper words
                                        of serenity.

Gather me upon the ground,
         so I may feel the footsteps of
                                  another's life.

Gather me upon the waters,
        so I may wash within the
               memories of teardrops.

Gather me upon the embers
            so that I may warm upon
                      the thoughts of others.

We may gather for many reasons,  
              different aspects of the same
                                                  wanting.

But we all have that moment in life
                   where each one will touch
                                             our lives.

I dreamed dreams I could never share
They haunted me more than I ever said
When I tried to share them here anyway
Often my mind was neither pink nor square
Yet, I decided not to fight, rest nor care