I’m proud of all the things I don’t know
This morning I woke up
and opened my third eye

and in the simple act
of receiving
the whole world spread
out in front of me

Like the pages of a book
Like a blueprint unfurling
Like a farm fresh golden egg
Like a biblical parting of the skies

Hyperbole?
Maybe,
but it feels like a spark
ignited
a “good morning”

long lost twin
all eyes open

sweet stranger
memory of me

almost long gone
forgotten

hello again
to the me

that sees with her third eye
who leaves a trail of golden
burning pieces

a single sparkler
just waffling all alone
down a dark driveway

in the hand of some innocent kid
such a small burning ember
and capable of such great joy