Imagination’s Genesis

Where the sandcastle spawned dreams,
Dreams became the tree house,
Became the apartment of independence,
Became the hill-top acre with tent,
Then trailer,
House,
Compound,
And all the fence-less horizons yet to come.

Somewhere beneath memory’s heavy eyelids,
Autumn’s leaves might begin falling unnoticed,
The beauty of a roaring waterfall
Remembered only as downstream irrigation,
The glistening white of winter’s cold
Becoming mere sadness without cause.

Time delivers on time,
Transforming figments remaining
Into man stranger,
Woman stranger,
Bench buddies in the park,
Breadcrumbs and handouts,
Cherished finger-foods and main course.

With guests always welcome,
Pigeons,
Squirrels,
A stray dog or two,
All yesterday’s shadows
Complete today’s absence,
Where anticipation
Begins envisioning itself.

Such becomes the waning years,
Retreating flesh and bone,
Heart and mind,
Past and present,
Taking the time necessary
To complete future’s future.

The fortunate few know
Imagination wills to be imagined again,
Just as reverie holds sandcastles are forever.