My Mind Poem by Bret Welch

A gray blob molds itself with invisible hands between my ears.
My grass resembles jewels in every direction.
Emerald green so bright, it puts Spring to shame.
Wandering forward, the cool jaded strips
Tickle my toes, and the breeze
Breathes through my ears.

My newfound shape decides to evolve
Into a stunning stone structure.
A sanctuary.
Maybe it belonged to a civilization
Long since forgotten.

Following its wall,
My hand traces the ancient symbols
Carved just seconds ago.
My temple trembles as it decides its final form.
I am alive.

Upon my return to this land,
My temple will not be here.
Nothing will.
Except an entirely new clear canvas.
For in my Haven,
My Fortress of Solitude,
I am the Inventor.
I am the Engineer.
I am the Generator.
And this is My Mind.