Poetry is alchemy, choosing to put your spirit and passion into all the words, and what's more to see it explode, to see it corrode like the stars you admire. They aren't standing lanterns in the dark, they are bursting, unraveling onto themselves...
Find those starseeds that possess those sunshine eyes whose beauty runs deeper than their skin that flows like a river, growing like nature free as bird, find those creatures...
you can't say a word, but a prayer falls off your hands into the soul of the world and your hoping those gypsies catch sight of your crimson hair....
hippies wear clothes they sewn themselves, beads in their hair, and handmade stone jewels adorn their necks, and sing by the fire and play the drums and tell you "Flower child, haven't we met before?" They are spiritual beings having a human experience.