I imagine transition

one minute here
and the next there,

no air resistance
no assistance necessary
a smooth move
not really noticeable at all
until we wake,

I imagine tall pines
forests of forever that
stretch out and never let any one
tell you
that you can’t imagine,

we are the engines that run
through the endless
we are the shepherds that
tend the flocks,

we are the thirsty
the many
the doubt
and the surety
we are

once stretched
don’t let your imagination
snap back,
keep it out there

wear it like a second skin
let it wrinkle like your
eyes in the sun
have fun
life really is too short
to be caught

© 2017, John Smallshaw.