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a word, a thought
just conjured by a tear
a lonely cry for help,
or bursting into flower
when love and joy
are spread to fertilise
potentials of this Eden.
Oh yes, they still exist,
potential that the would be
master of the universe
will realise a grain of sand
contains forever,
that blinkered eyes
will read the message
woven in the stars
that promises free will
and reassures that disbelief
does not make fact
a fiction.
I am imagination,
a need, a hope
just living in the center
of a maybe.
Believe or disbelieve,
it does not matter;
talk keeps ideas alive
and all that really counts
is that I believe in you.