Spinning a tale is such a dance.
Another chance to weave some rhyme.
Catching the wave and riding on high,
I reach for the heavens behind my eyes.

I’m watching the mirror as it reflects your face.
Spending each moment the way that you do.
The magic you hold in the palm of your hand
is here for a moment but the moment won’t last.

I don’t know where it all goes from here.
I can’t let go of such a novel state.
I won’t relax and I won’t be late.
I’ll create in the time you most surely await.

Weaving the threads on a golden loom
Inspiration moves me from room to room
I yearn for the source of the waters that flow
And touch at the sky with the reach of my eye