In a little muddled cloud, a bubble, a thought
Ideas float away unfettered of wings.
Catching them proves to be unfeasible
By any means possible it appears…
Careful when you pull from
My stack of Jenga dreams
Taken from what sustains and place on my crown
Begin tumbling, falling, scattering…game over.
Hold in your hands an image of love
Heavy, it seems, to the amateur captor
Light as air, supple, shaped…radiant
In the hands of the ancient, practiced devotee.
Halls and mirrors seek hazy confusion
Follow the seam and you’ll find the egress
Where Hope patiently waits, distant calliope, poised
To hold you and keep you, the spectacle of desire.
“Come home” breathes the slender sprite
Into ears unacquainted with compassion.
Lullaby swing, tree limb unbroken, come sing
The song in my dreams to make sweet.