Fifteen stars between each finger,
more germinating each minute
as the sky darkens...
I am a harvester of miracles here.
I stand with the clouds,
missing nothing but the disappointment of cold ice
by not being with them in person.
At this moment,
I am with everything in spirit
and fingers make agile substitutes for wingbeats.
I hold in my soul
all the tools needed to make the Universe smile
and rescue my imagination
from the fears and shadows.
