Realms

All the places I have been Sights and sounds and everlasting Speech between air and Earth; An Old Uncle telling stories Talking to myself in a language Only I can hear.

Scribbling fast like a mouse In search of an early meal; Writing it all down as if my life Depends on these little lines Because In a way It does.

We might remember newborn Hopes and dancing dreams; The allegory that stays Bound like felt against A soulful heart.

Seek out soaring spires; The ones shimmering Before our eyes but ignored; Accept the air as if It is yours to breathe.

On that day The realms regain Their value lost; Each climber looking out and up And helping those below Find silken treasure Like embers grown In journey’s fire.

All is there to gain With lost nothings like Quiet wings that brush Your cheek in memory Of times to come; Step by measured step.