Prison or pallet...

My mind is like a prison with a thousand thoughts, like prisoners, all planning and wanting to escape.
They seek the daylight of expression and the serenity of acceptance .
They seek that garden of creativity, where flowers grow, go to seed and create other gardens.
Am I diminished by freeing these prisoners, pardoning the for my selfishness? Releasing them on an unsuspecting public...
Every artist has his medium. The medium of the poet is words. Releasing these words from the heart can be painful as some of these flowers have thorns.
The condition for release is “inverse complexity “, the simpler the concept, the greater the understanding.
Seeing ones self among those flowers, in spite of the thorns, is like sunshine in springtime, like being alive for the first time, like an artist, anxious to create.