In multi-numbered pans of vision
Images just beneath the surface
In a pool of flickering waters
Are like gilded pledges, melted in a seductive light,
And offered upward to the surface as a prescience
(And brilliant units of communal offering.)
We count each coin as a blind desire for blessings
That seek a new dimension of expression
Of this, a quite Remarkable Rendition of Chance -
Wishing wells in the name of Fate,
(Knowing these all but empty vessels do sail,)
Sail only between the more certain Citadels
Their ghostly cargoes bubbling in the banks
Of our exquisitely fashionable Imaginations -
And this magnificence somehow breaks into seconds
What took Time, (as Creator,) eons to recognize
Frame by frame, into the manifest.., by frame.
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