When I used to roam through worlds other hands, created
Feeling nostalgia of a life not led…
When I stand by my mind to revert thence
Will you with me yonder wander free?
When I used to bask richly in worlds other minds, birthed?
Feeling eternity in those fleeting intangibles
When those feelings of peace, clarity, purpose were sowed in me
Encapsulated in art, in song, in prose, in poetry
And the Everlasting felt, here, truer
In fiction, in fiction! – the Eternal, truer and deeper…
When I stand by my heart to revert thence
Will you with me hither wander free?
Truth clothed in tale
Magic clad in the mundane
Meaning, mine; mysteries, mine; depth, mine
Death, mere commence
Truer and truer, these whispers of undyingness
Truth dolled up in fiction
Untrue but true…
Oh, when I used to roam through these worlds other hands, made
Finding here, now, the purpose in me to reverse thence
Will you with me into these fantasies spread free?
Borrowing from fiction into fiction
Oh, let the world’s hard facts with the world remain!
You and I within that bubble, we’ll be true
Into these worlds other hand hath made, we’ll be true
Perpetually, the poet’s handiwork
Yes, facts, false; feelings, truth
Bursting with nostalgia of lives not lived
Sweet memories of existences not forged
Oh, remembering, now, when I used to roam through these worlds other hands created
And standing by my mind to regress thence
Will you with me yonder wander free?
