When you close your eyes and open your mind,
What is it you see?
Does your mind draw up images,
Or just intense splashes of warm light?
What do you feel when the day ends?
Sorrow for the setting sun,
Or the mystery of what is to come?
What do you hear when the birds sing?
A pretty little tune, sung for your enjoyment,
Or an entire language you'll never know?
Where do you call home?
A place determined for you,
Or somewhere you have yet to invent?
Who is there when no one else is?
The person who always is,
Or the person you never realized was?
Why do you do that which you do?
Because you can,
Or because you should?
What do you say when the words run dry?
Nothing,
Or Everything?