Spring

Mind like a flower,
 a flower falling.
 A candle in the basement.
 Nothing is real
 but there is a spring inside.
 Waves breaking
 still reflect the moon.
 I erase myself
 and songs echo.
 Mind is an ocean.
 Thoughts are its
 waves breaking.
 Awake at dawn,
 thoughts unformed,
 (before I remember
 where I am)
 the clear universe is shown.
 A spring opens up.
 Mind like a flower falling
 blooming only to be blown
 borne across the sky
 unknown
 living life as if it's not
 a passing animal dream,
 a poem,
 a brief shelter
 seen as home.
 Mind like a falling flower
 like a wide ocean
 reflecting whatever
 on its dark waves
 in rows, unclear,
 unending thoughts
 distorting the only moon
 the light from nowhere.
 Beneath all this,
 the liquid stone
 beneath the fountains
 and the road
 all solid things I'm shown
 a pool of placid water
 pours in the windows
 and nothing is impermeable.
 The basement's flooded.
 The walls are
 groaning in the wind.
 I leap beyond all this
 into the water at night.
 The spring keeps
 opening wide.