I am a child left free in a carefully articulated garden of bulbs and bees Green grass flowers beneath my back Amid yellow marigolds and white lilies My eyes are pillowed in golden ratios and knotted conscious wills The sound of my carefree laugh travels the world, echoing in silent corners. It fills Empty rooms, locked cupboards and boxed dreams like a gentle sigh caressing old forgotten wounds I am a person Small and lost in a huge crowd A hub of words, opinions and feelings Preoccupied with finding something Which is real, wonderful and mine A pursuit of everlasting happiness In this entangled reality I feel an echo a whisper of a smile A flash, a memory of colours; golden petals and emerald leaves And a gift of a moment lived in perfect peace. i am circled, part of a pattern something wonderful, real, mine and unseen.
philosophies of an oddball