As lavender daydreams of seafoam seraphim swam inside my mind

Distracted thoughts disregarded imperfect strangers.

Deepset eyes told of criminal hearts…or wearied souls.

Oh, how was I to know?

Amidst sinner saints and street-walking politics

The only remaining heroes tell the truth and never get caught.

But only truth and beauty scratch our skin and pierce our hearts.

Oh, how are we to know?

Strangers feed their toothaches with net-worth hidden in soupcans

While bellies swell from lack and greed

Both wallets and souls are lost on these lonesome streets.

You tried to tell me so.

Oh, but how was I to know?

Does truth bloom in tulips; has it the petals of a rose?
Or is it hidden within the breeze that softly tickles them both?

Truth leads to beauty
I’m told the versa would be a vice.
Function …
Therefore form …
Therefore image …
Therefore function …
Sometimes the color green is nothing more than simply something nice.

He bends His bows in colorful shows
To remind us of the promise He never forgot
At sunrise, our eyes surmise surprises
Etched into time before eternity began

I always dream in colors and often think in circles
But the hues of dreams and the shapes of things
Lead me back to the Author
Of rational minds that see irrational i’s
And of Pythagoras as well as his many triangles

Does truth hide in my dreams; is it just something you know?
Or is it whispered in the breeze that gently tickles us both?