For that formality of what is real,

when how fantasy plays a role,

we listen,

dance, to sing a melody,

shares the beauty of who we are, might be,

always wish to want to know,

again, and again, and then repeated

one time later beyond the long ago.

We do find a tear,

not one made up in order to find a way,

but that moisture, that letting go, where our eyes,

cleansed in the sheer loveliness of time,

begins again, to allow our lives,

to travel, to search, to find,

to reminisce,

to under, to try to speak definitive –

there is a sense of forgiveness,

in understanding our world did begin,

again.