A Life Touched Briefly

I think about the moments as they hover, make contact, disappear as if forever might prove to be negotiable; there was exchange, not so? Something about recall discerns a somewhere with receptacles--perhaps for visionaries, but they do not die. Between the arms of possibility are found the glint of hope (madness perhaps) or irony. There beside the dry, unwieldy skeleton of possibility, are those shy hints of laughter the bright ones overlooked, the vision, only vanity rejects. It comes beyond remembering, in mute tenacity a surge, frisson along the spine, confirming origin, blithe centrifuge that cedes no will or need to understand; for there within its vast purview, is home. ~