What have you seen nickering between your toes from underneath.
shadowing the soles of your feet?
Haven’t you found that stygian void disquieting?
Have you noticed the gleam in the deep of your eye, just past the
iris, within the pool of the pupil?
Who do you think that might be, watching you, biding, biding?
Haven’t you yet felt a Mind behind your mind, inside I mean, flank-by-flank,
intimate with dentritic lightning?
What do you suppose you are really?
Don’t you think something in addition to naivete and daylight?
Have you seen that glittering nimbus that wreathes your cheeks,
and blows like wildfire through your hair?
I have witnessed it when you’re running and laughing, flushed with
summer or snowy afternoons.
Haven’t you noticed something bright and otherworldly around your eyes
when you’re suddenly surprised and delighted?
I have seen it when your joy is full–say, listening to music, up late
in your room.
Haven’t you felt your imagination glow, wrap around you like a fairy cloak,
when you’re experimenting with make-up, or reading a beloved book?
What do you think you look like in such moments?
Don’t you think something considerably more than a creature that will wither
and die too soon?
Copyright (C) 2015 by Douglas M. Gillette