A calculated vagueness
of truth and conjuring,
the sounds a sense of song,
a satisfaction beyond the words,
beyond the race to get the world right.
In the pen’s perfection
Earth concedes to Space;
the tethered soul takes flight.
everything and nothing is concrete,
a constant morph between form and spirit;
The activity of fact and dream
and the circumstance of imagination.
When all is done, the smallest wren
becomes a 747; a mountain
becomes a molehill.