submerged
in the murkiness
of the world
parted by a film
thin between
the dark and light
as I reach
for the other side
fallen in a pond
where it all reflects
and neither up nor down
is quite what it seems
in the stillness
where words break
as waves upon
a foreign shore
held together
by the thinnest strands
that rust apart
from the misty breeze
balanced
on a thin line
where worlds await
on either side
as life grows
upon the generations
beneath the sun
climbing
vine by vine
until she remembers
that the destination
will always find her
on a path
where the world
has changed its hue
while in my shaded view
there’s nothing
that seems so new