A pint of poetry, a vase of laughter

                                       4/19/90

Spontaneous Creativity is always there where
we left it the last time we may have
immersed our psyches in that effervescent
fluorescence.
        Flip a coin,
                  it turns into a dime.
        Step on it, and
                  it becomes a penny.
      Bite into an apple
                and you find immortality.

How many times have you
         repainted your walls
              in order to re-clothe the MUSE?
Was the paint lukewarm?
Wallpaper of silk.

In the nightwind,
                 my thoughts chime to dreams.
Dreams of deep heights,
                 of known and unknown hopes.
The experiences are real,
                    yet of another notion.
Perceive the possibility
                    in the nightwind.

Silent drawings await the dawn of consciousness.
A rhyme of line and color, from afar seem
                         in ruins, as if
                         in failure.
Over there upon a table,
          a pint of poetry (to quench a
                          universal thirst?).
Linger with me?
Hand in hand?
The spread of colors, lights and darks,
           speak of tactile memories to come,
                a cushion to catch our teardrops,
A vase of laughter to sip and share;
Silent drawings await the dawn.