And This Blue Marble Shifts (Poem)

She says a spirit watches over her while she sleeps in bed.
She says when her eyes open,
and her heart awakens,
that this spirit holds something in each hand.

In one hand rests a kiln where soft songs of fire shape the contours of a lie,
and in the other other a mask of a young girl's smile,
surfeited with sugar and sunshine.

She says the evening before,
a fuchsia sky smeared the horizon with a lighter hue,
where clouds obscured far more than the sky.
She whispers that the spirit lives just beyond the noise line,
like crossing a raucous road into a prairie of crickets and whispering wheat.

She says this spirit resides in the marshes of madness,
in the mire of peoples' minds,
and will never step foot amongst the living.

Yet there it stands, two hands held up in question,
silent in her room
and this blue marble of a world shifts slightly towards the unknown.