Mistakes are miracle gifts, An opening of spirit wings Teaching what might be Painted on the sky in Numerous serpentine solutions, A letting loose of reins.
Just listen to the whisper Of the mind’s darkest corners Impossible words joined, Somehow making sense Of this life’s chaos.
Let them drift through dreams Into puddle-muddle messages In some esoteric language, Translated from the frenzied scrawl Of love-letters written to a thankless world. All poems are exquisite mistakes.