By Scott Bailey © 2018
Keep them focused
On the trivial
The micro problem
While we steal
In response to the daily prompt Micro
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday
The day follows night
Repeating the witching hour
Except, the mayfly
Tenuous synonyms for my haiku
Motes of dust
So we have been described
Floating in the vastness of time and space
Dust motes made of dust from ancient dead stars.
Amongst all we see,
the starfields of diamond dust,
the ancient piercing light,
the glowing, magical, wispy nebulae,
the rainbow rings of Saturn,
the storms of Jupiter,
the blinding light of supernova,
the singular dark of black hole,
world after world
galaxy after galaxy.
Nowhere have we found
Anything that compares
to the complexity, the wonder, the intricacy,
the thoughts of you and I
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
We have a love/hate relationship with it.
We do not want to be afraid. We want safety and comfort.
Or do we?
Underneath, secretly we crave it. The thrill of fear, the arousal of danger.
So turn off the lights. Open the pages and delve in.
Find the thrill in the words.