i perch
like a mindful, tiny bird's spirit,
on the very cusp of the milkyway.

a mere wisp,
of an evocative thought,
a dreams first seed,
a speck of fairydust, 
in the iris,
of tentative belief.

i have,
yet
to travel the spirals
of the windmill mind,
yet
to be fortified by conjecture,
ratified by trial of fire.

my inchoation began,
at the galaxies birth, 
yes
i am a by-product of
the big bang.
and
yes i too, 
have seen
how and why, 
god made the heavens,
such an alluring shimmer
of blue,
and why
all things,
great and small.
need the spark,
the desire to accede, 
to the wont,
to ascend to
something
higher and more profound.

i am,
external,
internal,
eternal,
grace,

i am
in the tears of
sad sorrow,
i am
in the magic of
unadultered joy
in
the laugh of a child, 
the flight of a bee, 
the glimpse of tommorrow
the purr of a cat, 
the bark of a dog,
the roar of a lion, 
the ribbet of a frog, 
in an old womans glance,
the first kiss of new lovers,
in a babes first smile,
in the fragrance of flowers
left in memorium,
in each and every
spark
of  flighted fireworks.

i am
to be found
for i am
hope 
and
i abide eternally,
in all.