Peaceful Thought

Where do my lost poems go?
The good ones people tell me about
    or those hours of literary moments
        I stash away in a dresser drawer
                “Oh damn, what’s the use?”

They might go to a poem heaven
    where pieces of creativity
        float above the clouds
            to wink at the moon
                and nip an angel wing or two
                    before they dive into Little Bear’s
                        alphabet soup
                            and finally swirl into a colossal hot pot
                                of Libra’s galactic cappuccino.
Or perhaps a white dove will snatch
    my poems and deliver them to the feet
        of some earthly Great Guru Bear
            along with a star
                plucked from the Milky Way.

Poems echo the creator…
    can’t you see?
        they should go back from where
            they came
                don’t you agree?