The Star Of Ideals

I’m not anchored very well on mother earth,
from red to the solar plexus, though I’m filled
with love, it’s mostly theories and things, books
I can open and close, people I cannot

I love communication and third-eye mysteries,
but all alone in my head - spiritual indigo not
penetratrating me, I’m as closed off and limited
as I’ve ever been, my life held together

By hope only, I trust in things I cannot see, believe
in ideas with no equivalent in sensory reality, my
life follows a single trend: Moving from magic to
mystery in a dream, without a shred of evidence

But I never give up hope, hope shining in silver
and gold against a dew-fresh background,
I keep following the star of ideals…