Imagine Crayons

I imagine ginger snaps, licorice, and red grapes. I, too, imagine

A growing wit. So much to capture freedom, but a glimpse.

It’s similar the freedom of prey: danger lurks; and still, we

Long the lush ponds, a feeling bright blue; and to smile a

Tear, such joy. There’s a verse: “we wrestle not flesh and

Blood.” Such chills to ponder; and such faith to wrestle. I

Imagine equations of life, fractions of love, and algorithms.

I, too, imagine—a first kiss, a shy heart, and oak wands. Cast

A spell, my love: and filter magic. For ivory souls, claim the

Vine; and mystic minds mold castles. Imagine—a windless kite.

I tried so hard; and nevertheless, trees remained green. Some

Speak visions, and fashion raptures; and some speak ill, and

Fashion gripes. Speak a miracle, my heart; and plague a

Phantom, my soul; for life, a vault of crayons.