Treasures

Upon the way, we pass each other by, perhaps a glance,  though looking through each other as if ghosts, as if there never was a hope that we might one day dance. But we are keepers of a thousand splendid songs, and we could sing them all. We can surely pipe one tune, that would see us, joyful, spinning ‘neath the moon,  or riding high on pearly waves from which we shall not fall.   We talk, words empty, none aimed true and swiftly lost,  as if we were not sacred creatures met upon the path, as if the careless flight of arrow comes at no great cost.  But we are bearers of so many wondrous thoughts, precious jewels ripe for spilling into all sweet waiting souls. We surely have one key upon this ring, that we can use to set our birds on wing, call forth the rising sun and make us whole. And what of all those nights spent skin on skin. So close, and yet somehow we could not see,   for we thought the glitter of our gold worn thin. We the soft deep dragon hearted ones,  who navigate by stars this lonely night. We, whose fingers tinsel trail a blue ink sea, so rich with possibility, shall bring these treasures out into the light.