a message from the future.

all these things

great and small

an arc 

of delights.

kick the sun!

dance up!

fling that dirt!

piles of bones, you are

shake, rattle and roll

until you pop

until you break

until you fly

to the moonshine

drunk

like some

skunk

in a Saturday Morning Cartoon

scurrying through your

brain

across a tightrope 

of all these things

great and small.

go beyond the stars!

(don't you know?) you have

silver lasers

behind your eyes!

there are:

forgotten sparks

warmish embers still.

let the wind in

gently, if you must

or,

open windows wide

to the dark

like you did

many times before

when baby teeth

were fairy gifts

beneath your pillow

beneath your sleeping head

beneath your frame

beneath your shell,

lost in a dream.