Title 30-01-26
What burns for a blink yet refuses to die,
gone in a snap, yet is still passing by?
What stretches from the cradle to Hades' gate,
past faces it should fear, past moments it should save?
What runs without motion, marches without sound,
sometimes falls to its knees and hides like a clown?
What am I?
I’m dew that appears where no water has been,
crowns forged from nothing on leaves ever green.
I’m dust; invisible, yet that fills every room,
lit briefly into treasure, then lost before noon.
I come from the stardust you watch through a screen;
I'm the tallest tower, the wildflowers and everything in between.
Who am I?
I could be a breeze with no air to breathe
clutching a sunset the day won’t release,
or a storm with no lightning in its hands,
that pockets subtly the foreign lands.
I could be glass without shape and sand without age,
a masterpiece framed, a mess on your dining plate.
What will I be?
You’ll find me where tunnels swallow their starts,
where rats learn your name and the dark calls you 'heart.
I'll rise, hand in yours, up to the tallest peaks,
and find myself sprinkles on top of sweet summer treats.
I’ll sleep in perfumes that lie fragrant and still,
and rattle awake with the bitterest pill.
Where am I?
E x h a l e
Listen-
to my breath.
Who will you make me?
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