I Will Connect Them

I will connect them
to the sun:
     let the gold run through her veins like liquid lava
     give his hair a soft, golden glow
     streak their cheeks with burning caresses
     stain the mother's brown eyes with molten shine, let it infiltrate her irises like a      counter spy
     splatter the flowers in the field with a bright, inhuman gleam

I will connect them
to the stars:
      let them reflect in her eyes and her new diamond ring
      place them in the tears of a father whose sole reason for living, the star he called his       own, has left to join the others of her kind
      place the shine among his midnight strands, hidden beneath shadow
      lend their light to the late night insomniac who roams Second Street, searching for       beauty
      give their inspiration to the ink stained man without a muse, bandaged fingers       tapping restlessly on the side of his coffee cup

I will connect them
to the sky:
     let the azure sweep over her glass-capped, personalized periscopes, and bend their
     pigment to match its own
     present the splashes of summer laughter to them in a cool, salty refreshment
     inspire them with fragmented hues and tease their soft spoken lips
     bleed the atmospheric tint into the petals of the rarest herb there is

I will connect them
to my creation.

I will connect them
though they
        see me not
        hear me not
        believe me not
        thank me not.

I will connect them
in hopes they may
      someday connect
to me.