Old, rusted keys
turn the lock to
reveal
a kaleidoscope mind,
swirling with
colors of judgement,
of moods...
Watch the patterns
change, as the glass
shifts during the day;
can you hear the sound
of the glass pieces
rolling, tumbling into
place?
Many moods, many phases,
many turns until the
bleak lighted orb that
rules the night removes
the colors from your
sight; green is gray, and
pink is white,
But you decide which is
right, what is real and what
is illusion, while the
thoughts always turn and
tumble - the colors change
within that kaleidoscope mind...
And your eyes, the windows
to your soul, behold the
colors and patterns within.
And when they are open,
they cannot hide the
prism, from which arrays
the color is displayed inside
a kaleidoscope mind...
Nor can they keep others
from looking in:
for a kaleidoscope mind
is a curious thing,
encountered few and
far between the wonders
of the world.
Honorable mention
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