Daily Archives: January 9, 2022


Originally written 2007.


The brain
knows many things.
Some of them you know.
Some you do not.


If the brain
is a flower,
you are
its scent.


Perhaps the brain
is a flower,
starving for light, reaching out
through your eyes
for its sustenance.


If you plucked
your brain
and held it to the light,
would you find the mind?


The mind lives
in the brain and
hides in its petals.
The mind is the dark
among colors.


When you sleep
the brain corrals
the mind. They talk all night,
pretending they are
you. In the morning
you are nearly deaf
from the echoes of their


It’s not part of the scheme
that you should understand
everything they were discussing.
There are things shoring up
the brain and mind
that would terrify you
if you knew them.


The brain opens its bloom
long after you close your eyes.
The mind rises from its nooks and folds
to escape, moving past you,
playing in the meadows.


The mind drifts back
in the hot late afternoon.
Your head grows heavy
with pollen. You open your mouth
and bees fly in
to take their fill while the mind
avoids being stung
by the danger in the commerce.


When you sleep
the mind and brain bear ideas.
You pretend they are your own fruit.
The brain laughs at you. The mind
strokes you softly, saying,
“There, there…”


You are the scent.
Something plucks your brain
and you die slowly. Maybe
another brain and another mind
recall you for a while, but
you’ll certainly fade.


fed long enough
on vision, scent, touch,
sound, taste will double back
on its own surety. The brain
makes you sleepy. The mind
makes you frightened. You
make yourself believe
there are reasons for everything.


A night blooming flower
holds its beauty
until first light, collapsing
at the first touch of your hand,
staining your memory
with a scent you can never name.