(This is a re-upload, as I had to take the original down as it was being submitted to a magazine. This is a slightly edited version. Enjoy!)
Myriads of threads peruse
Such permeable thoughts
I am their muse;
They’ll wander, prod
Until they find footing in the crevices I so carefully attend to
Yet I am not tainted,
I am a means by which the Universe understands itself
In the breath that is life.
What a gift to be a finger that crafts
The masterpiece that lies before us;
To feel the tendrils of deep night
Because nothing can yet understand the mind
Let alone the extensions of the hand
I am the Myriad
That peruses the spaces of dark.
I am the Universe.
Through it I wander,
Until each breath creates the footings
I so carefully attend to;
We so carefully attend to.