Mason of Dreams

Little threads of reality weave,
Into a delicate tapestry of infinite dreams.

Images of life are shaped and formed,
In the likeness of a passing memory.

And credulity becomes the conjurer,
When synthetic scenes are spliced together.

As the cement grip of sleep loosens,
A burning sun rises in our hearts.

A sadness grapples with this morning,
Failing to catch what is now lost.

Like holding onto a wisp of the wind,
Or skeins of smoke rising to oblivion.

With a certainty of the sea in its wake,
Sandcastle worlds accept their fate.