But An Audience

To be that
Which knows from where it came
Knows the reality-hard past whose dust
It now imbues with reflection
As light beams bathe
Floating detachments free
Coming to rest on silent seas of peace

To know laughter learned its way
By hardened experience
Before it might relax into ripples of solitude

Oh to accept such a shimmer
Smile as eight legged innocence does
Fold into compliance
Await and dream
Just as a dust mite's next iteration
Knows Earth’s existence
Is but an audience of accretions
In creativity’s grand continuum