Imagination

Imagination burns like a flame,

devouring and recreating

as a phoenix reborn of ashes.

It rages with an enquenchable ferocity

like a wildfire across a field of silvering grass.

It shines like an inner sun,

radiating outward to enlighten the world

in beams of gold and crimson.

 

It flows like the tides,

rushing back and forth in sweeps of inspiration

as the pen sweeps across the page,

leaving shining black letters to make a world.

It changes always,

sometimes as cold and unyielding as ice,

other times as subtle and permeating

as morning mist.

 

It grows and strengthens as the mighty oak,

sinking deep roots into the fertile soil of thought,

and reaching forth with tall, proud branches

to the limitless skies of possibility.

It is resilient, weathering storms of brutal logic

and insensitive doubt.

Always, it lives on,

sending out the green shoots of hope.

 

It soars like a bird on the evening winds,

always moving on, spreading out,

traveling from mind to mind.

Like the swiftest of winds,

it can carry aloft a seed with the gentlest touch,

or rock the very foundations of a mountain.

relentlessly, it twirls around the world

in a twisting circle of magic.

 

But at one point do the bright, shining flames

become raging infernos

that threaten to destroy

the heart of the wielder?

When does a crystalline blue stream

leave behind is riverbed

to become an engulfing flood

to drown reality?

How long 'til a flourishing emerald tree

saps the essense of the universe

until all is consumed

by the ever-reaching tendrils?

Why can't the wind

be content to spread creation,

instead of turning to a tornado

that ravages all the land?

 

Imagination burns like a flame,

and flows as the tides;

it grows and strengthens as the mighty oak,

and soars like a bird on the evening wind.

Author's Note

As always, feel free to critique.

Reviews

[Michael X]

stunning intellectual concept artfull interpretted from a Poet's imagination overflowing with the detials that create ambition's push to conquer, to make the blank page a kingdom where surrendering thoughts dwell as loyal and submissive, your words are written to heightened interpretation Justin and the metaphor
is brilliantly invented in ways that cause the reader to ponder on the definition depicting what reflects
the heart in sculpted attitude and reasoning.. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this abstract work of heart

[Wildfleour]

I'm not sure what you want critiqued. I enjoyed the images presented, although a bit dark.