The mind is a creature wandering in spaces
between awe-inspiring light and absolute darkness
It spools polychromatic prisms
just to skew what we think of as real

Perhaps to force us to think of things
from a different point of view, it makes
polka-dots of what was once striped
and fragile that which was always armored

And somewhere in those mystical margins
we discover even that which disturbs
has purpose, has meaning

Thought is simply a seed
Where we plant it,
a choice

Photo by Nick Demou from Pexels
prompt: #OctPoWriMo – Day 4