If the world is made up of colors, what should we see?
If every other color is a reflection of white or an
absorption of black, how is it that we manage to see
so many colors and only seem to think in black and white?
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Drawing self into portraits of imagination, taking all the ideas filled from yesterday’s compositions.
Rounding out nature of life with abundant magic in mystical prospects of a new dawn, waiting to break open on tomorrow’s landscape.
Retching from inside my mind, seeing nothing but sadness filtering
Unaware of happiness waiting in lines to greet me, only finding doses of grief to knock me into another millennium.Without ever regaining hope to pull me through this life of agony, knowing it was given to me for the better good.
Testing strength of character, sorting through memories left on pathways to future aging.
Sincerely finding reasons to become what I was always meant to be.Taking strides to be effervescent in life’s trials, setting aside all types of insistent complaints, instead focusing on an eternity of truth and honesty.
Classically proving quips of yesterday, giving in to special endeavors of purpose.
Sliding across avenues of past remembrances, partaking in memory’s images, taking roles in instinctual presences.Awaiting formal invitations from silent partners in visions of talent, being exercised carefully in embraces of ingenuity.Taken prolongingly into secrets of hidden catacombs, staying beneath earth’s top soil, growing every creative particle and atom.