Flecks of thoughts gather like dust
and settle at the bottom of my brain.
There they lay, unperturbed,
for the most part anyway.
And even if a strong wind of passion
sends those particles into a flurry,
the lid of my mind stays sealed and shut
and stops them from breaking free
except when I let them be.
Through the threads of poetry
or vast planes of fiction,
I set free these fragments
born from imagination.
Through these, I hope that I
stir flurries in other minds,
that through my thoughts and sentiments
theirs will break free and fly.
As they always should.
Let the winds carry our voices,
Let our imaginations be!
And so, have some of mine,
from the depths of my mind, they flutter free.