In the garden of my mind, nothing grows
but light. Flower-colored light.

The mind is a gardener making
flowers come alive in the dark.

Either I’m walking around in a dream
or I’m in a field of flowers, lightwalking.

Either I’m walking around in a dream
or the world is. It’s time to be awake.

Gardens are good places to learn
about the mysteries of the Universe.

I see faces in the faces. The flowers
I’m looking at are looking at me.

I have to believe that light
has a heart and a mouth and a tongue.

Every bloom I reach to touch turns to wind,
blows away, leaving fragrance in my hand.

Don’t look into my eyes until you’re ready
for one of us to disappear.

Without the sun to warm me,
I am awash in moonlight.

Without the moon to light me,
I bask in starlight.

Without the stars to watch over me,
I gaze upon my own luster.

I am on fire with beauty,
my soul beginning to glow.