Do I mine or mind this mind to meld,

When fresh, broken,

Built in timeless spell,

Or spent through pictures bright,

With music loud,

With flowered scent,

With taste,

What might I touch,

What worth and waste,

What purpose is this mind but message sent,

This mindful art,

This start of new,

This end of old,

This dance that through,

Our fall to earth,

This I,

This you...

This all we are,

I sense this mind is mine to give,

Hour glass of rich and present land,

Our moment now,

Our single treasured golden grain of sand.

. . .

As I watch the gentle to and fro as a globe thistle rocks upon the summer breeze I reflect on my mind's eye, and its importance...

ORIGINATOR · Mike de Sousa

ART FORM · Poetry

COMPLETED · 2015

Free to enjoy. Copyright maintained. Not to be used for ai or commercial gain.