visualize other worlds.

freezing fog sweeps borders like ink strokes,
like water on stone, gray.
the skies too, with tempered blue.
a sharp curve, steely against the cushioned cold.
a single disk of yellow, its warmth sharpening the steel.
gold gleams like sunlight, but the sun is gone,
covered like eyes tired of seeing,
like a treasured coin retired.
it’s just another day dreaming.
just another day seeing what others don’t,
what others have forgotten to see.
simple scenes show so much more,
if you’re willing to look.
jade green teardrops, still growing.
amber strips, sticks, cold and dead.
by limiting your view, you allow yourself to build
the rest of the world yourself.
a tarnished mirror, speckled through
with stone.
atop the stone, ancient rods point to the sky,
and mirrored, to the sky below.
is that entirely true to what you see?
does it even need to be?
the willingness to ignore truth in your own personal world
while upholding it where your world touches others’,
this is what it would mean for childhood to intersect with
your matured life.
a matured sky now, it’s darker than before.
the stone like obsidian, it reflects something beyond.
something before us; in front of us, and past.
we wondered once, you can see that now.
are those red mountains really there?
really, now? do you want them to be?
they’re real, now.
deep ocean above, diamond points.
the horizon cut a sharp line, now it’s all the same.
the rods are barely visible.
the yellow disk slices through the dark,
contrasting all the more now.
would it matter if i told you these were many different scenes?
to you, they were one.
one world, your world.
can you imagine the rest of it now?