In a world full of rocks
there's a roll full of film
filled with photographs-
squares- like the infamous cube
To remind her that even colors
get oddly mixed up sometimes.

Blue walls
where memories rest.
And she sees,
in the eyes of John Lennon,
Circles.
And she imagines, when she listens to
The Question...
what would it feel like
to walk through a kaleidoscope?

The pond.
It knows her soul
desire to fall in love with love itself.
Her energy is art,
but there is no use for picture frames
to restrict the flow of such creation
through solely just a window with purpose
to dream, to wonder-wander
time to time.

She walks
from one star to the next-
out of her mind,
Making music of her own.
And I look up from the surface
to see her presence on that lucky rock-
Planting flowers on the moon.