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.