MIRAGE

I say I see & yes I do!

But all I see is a thirsty dream,

A fantasy far from real

Never to occur, forever to relish.

Yet I let myself lose into that surreal,

Where each wind waters it's wild,

And wild both - free and fright

Only to remain in the memory piled.

Spinning between a plan as by an architect

And a handiwork as by a sculptor,

Is the existence none can predict.

Both with fragrance that satisfies.

And from that surreal to this real,

Nothing do I cuss about.

This I know the dreams are deemed to be longing

As long as they live.

And this too I know, I live the unknown,

Still I let it bring it's wonder

And that mirage, a beauty of it's own.

- Sarah Daniel