Do we measure our thoughts like spices
a little of this and a little of that
ground together to make new seasoning
new patterns of a shifting universe.
If I were to deconstruct Van Gogh to create an image
of where my thoughts reside,
would they resemble a cosmic eye watching
as the world transpires
moving round and round
in its usual way-effortless and without thought
I gather the things that make me smile
tucking them away in the star-dust cobwebs,
pilfering them away like a thief
for I know when I need it most
I will lift the lid and peer within
searching for that special something,
a sound, a scent or perhaps a memory of a faded dream.
As the incense burns out before barely beginning
the jasmine fills rooms of blue
silky smoke just enough to linger for me,
not enough to choke
and I am there again
yesterday when art and words and soothing days
eased by like a silent movie
and I watched in rapt attention wondering
where did those days go?
I swirl here in these thoughts
Starry night broken apart and reformed
into a new quiet peace
that finds me grateful
for its essence.