From the dandelion to the sunflower, from the larva to the butterfly, from the cephalopod to the tetrapod, from the green grass plains to the flower pot. A nebula can only get its start if it has dust in space to chase hydrogen in place for the birth of a star. It’s nuclear war. How a tortoise got its shell involves over a million different tails. And to tale it swell you’ll have to think of every angle and tell. Look the poker player in the eye and poke her veil with the ends of what a man am I. To outlast this story but a million times through hymns and dreams of benign vision of my two bad eyes. What signs I sign for the deaf and blind. We’ve heard this same story but a millennial and nine, but with each time a microcosm shifts. And tens of thousands of years from now, this cowardly spine will hopefully have many many more disks. Like pulling wisdom teeth from a cave man. It hurts. But I just can’t seem to see past the you and me that escapes my imagination of here today where I stand right now holding your hands. Remember yourself the great ape. The wet foot mammal having taken every cosmic shape. Envision a lion on a lotus leaf and a falling feather for the wind to bring the news of today for you and me. And the sands of time clock tick this magical human hour of invention by projecting civilization forward through the use of smoke and mirrors. Beyond the white and the black, beyond the cave and the forest, beyond the open plains and off to horizontal star dwellers. Look through your kaleidoscope and see if you can spot your burning bush from afar. See all god’s gifts are colliding and falling to Earth with the sorrow of Cupid’s heart. I’m just here to help pick up the pieces and put them back into the stars. To get back to the start of it all. Back to where life ends and begins again in another form in another way in another you with a different name. Come tell your story once more, my whimsical and starry friend. From seashore to mountain top. Go tell it all upon a youthful fountain. Make a wish. Close your eyes. Cross my heart and hope to never hide what makes my story so important. It’s you. The you in yours that makes me in mine. With flowery eyes and dandy lies. I’ll say your name over a thousand times and hope to never forget your smile. Your beautiful voice. Your scent. Your taste. Your look. Your mind. How lucky am I just to get to know it. I want to write it all on a wall to be found in a cave protected from time so no one will ever forget your face. My perfect mirror.