Random Acts of Poetry

Dreamer

Once, I had marbles:
lucid glass and porcelain, agates,

with banners whirled
in frozen hues through drops of ice,

those polished orbs
staring back without judgment.

Or a handful of planets.
I pitched one star to a firmament,

knocked them
from their bauble galaxy into chaos,

then gathered them together,
a benevolent god

keeping my jewels in a muslin sack.
I poured them out, one tapping one,

warmed each in my palm,
held it to the light,

sitting alone and staring
into a mysterious center,

just me and a cat's eye.
Time, no tyrant.