4:44 A.M.
Cacti leaning left in a digital desert,
the one in the middle lasting ten minutes,
but time once started can never have an end.
The mind is a god that can create whatever worlds it wants:
cherry orchards flaming palest pink when sun returns after hard rain.
enchanted gardens rimmed with marigolds, luminous orbs of orange and yellow,
playgrounds of children bouncing word balls
like om, honeyed hum lasting long as breath—om--,
and und, scraping of the bottom with foot-stomping end—und--,
a land where free thinking is the only kind of thinking,
the masses narcotized by nightly news and game shows,
a universe where Prometheus need not steal fire
but creates a new heaven for every mortal.
What the mind brings into being will always exist
if only in the infinity of unfound worlds.
May 6, 09
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