Essence

      
it likes to imagine      
appendages      
to yawn and stretch      
      
quiet testing,      
then owns the sunrise      
to meld with and warm      
from its answer      
     
alone, it yearns      
then comes into      
our sphere,      
idillic form to be free in      
     
( shapeless, eternal      
Is nothing new      
in a universe )      
     
it fancies form with its      
rudiments and      
shortcomings      
providing curves      
     
it wants a connection,      
a dialect      
radiating from      
its own star, felt      
     
imagination of day      
blending into      
destinations of night,     
streaming      
     
wavering, boundless,      
liking to be its own      
‘playful’ in a body      
aglow      
     
if I were it,      
I would melt,      
dissolve my issues      
and resolve      
     
and, like spirit,      
but as my essence,      
evolve and wistful    
float away      
     
Yes, I could.      
I have what it likes,      
it feels everything      
I’d ever need to