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.