The Creative Mind

The creative mind searches for meaning under rocks and stones others have thrown.

It’s in this moment of anger one can see, pieces revealed like worms wiggly.

From this light exposed, crawling insects and species unknown, who burrow deep beneath the cool earth’s dome. Hoping not to reap what has been sown, we all imagine this world below.

You have been simpler than that. Not because there is not depth, but because you expose all of life’s traps. Tripping on your words, feeling alone, not sure what it all means, admittedly absurd.

One drink, two drinks, three drinks, four. I see before me the innocent lore. About a man who comes into fortune and fame, not ready but willing all the same. No friends abandoned or lies told, no back stabbing, no planning at all. You get what is lucky, inside those dollars lies material currency. It’s not just what the color green says to me, it’s what it means as far as possibilities.

Innocence when fortune is gained is pure and lovely yet can’t be remained.

My creative mind wants to know, do you feel like stones are thrown? Your innocence out the window, on trail for ideas you’ve never known?

Be beautiful while you wiggle through changes. It’s safe deep within, inside a world that accepts your sins. Gives room for mistakes and judgements, while higher powers control your anger.

Stand there strong or crawl, there’s a place for us all. You bring out what’s good in us, testing our will to see others success. This is a good muscle to exercise. One day soon, this will be asked of you, and you will be the man who’s gracious, understanding and creatively conscious too.

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