With a stroke of the keys I catch the infection;
somehow somewhere I see my reflection.
Impermanence can both brighten and shadow a day;
the tide of memory drifts forth and away.
My feet want to move, I have legs after all.
How does light differ in heart and that fiery ball?
Dance near enough to see how one burns brighter,
yet both seem to obscure and inspire.
The warmth of another for a place in time,
such moments define the surreal and sublime.
