i was conjured in a glint

i may vanish in a blink

by one who knows me not

a figment given voice

and no more   was i given

capability   what have i

an ill-used voice 

left none to my own

graces   the unspoken

breezes

serenity of nowhere

ceaselessness of tomorrow

other realms unseen

unpraised   unimagined

~

part of this is true   it is my story

it is marketa's story

and lin's   i guess

it's a creation myth   not unique to us

i don't know 

about vanishing in a blink

that's yet to be determined

the rest

the breezes   the serenity   that's just life

it's what   

out of all that's out there

we choose to let in   while the unseen awaits

like looking at the stars   then looking at the stars

through a telescope

~

some mornings we rise in anticipation   

curious

what the day might hold   

other mornings

we would rather stay in bed   

twenty four hours may be too many hours to fill

each hurtling toward the abyss

why not stay upon the magic carpet of dreamland  

this morning it is too dark to rise   days are growing shorter

but i rise 

not because i must   though i must   rather   

to begin this day   

for i am curious

even hopeful