seeking cracks in brightness
romantic fissures conquering ambition
that other lives
fabrications like diverse repeating decimals
might be liv’d
translating “where I am”
embracers of first morning
to ghosts by third night
how she might
despair
fantasizing
great flocks
of dust mold’d
with space
to a clay
ever confusing
and reidentifying
I’m born
I live
I die
(suppos’dly)
Something’s before
during
and after
me
(suppos’dly)
but
of myself a part
has always been
I
of Everything
or is Everything
Me?
for Now
…perhaps
cultivating
dreams of rainbow petals
yesteryear’s keepsake to bear
of cloudless blues
the fruits to inspire
of their own dreams
and bless tomorrow’s trees
with laughter
open
asleep
yet drifting awake
inside that other world
thinner than th’ inlying soul
of time
tracking the footsteps
of a Meaning
after surfacing
will pen and paper
at the ready
Remember?
