Picture Perfect

The bow in the sky Shot its silver darts down to earth And I shot right back at it With the faulty camera in my hands And the faulty camera in my mind I know that those imprints Will live longer on my computer Than the hard drive in my head I flicked through the grainy shadows Of the moment I tried to capture, And sighed at the sad truth That the picture was always more beautiful In that visceral view I returned to that day, I adjusted the perspective And in the flash of a bulb It was clear; The image has faded, The impression remained And has woven itself into my soul fabric Twisted tightly In an iridescent Psychedelic Sensory braid.