Dream, will you serve me in real life
  As my magic wand?

  Or will you suspend me in time
  a-tease with images
  Landscapes peopled with the grey forms
  Of what is gone
  But still shadow my soul

  Dream, are you telling me
  you will Not serve me in this?

  Oh so you say you are of the air through
  Which I might wave a wand
  And so would collect on it
  Like metal shavings attracted
  A rich vapor of Inspiration.

  But you say the wand itself
  The magnet is elsewhere?

  So what is left and who am I
  Like a found object in my pocket
  I am like a needle on a compass pointing north
  I have direction but as yet no goal
  No purpose or intention.

  Will you challenge me on that point too?
  You are asking a sensitive question

  About my person me.
  You know, I am a lightening rod
  I gather energy
  And deep down beyond where I fool even myself
  I know I am magic.

  Louise Dery-Wells January 2000

info@pathfinding.com
Louise Dery-Wells

Created by Oakleaf Studios