every day a surprise

all this asking to become
all that—as ephemeral
as images stored in clouds—

does anything even exist
if no one looks? perhaps
it’s only a rearrangement

of particles, only ever was
figments, tiny pieces of energy
and light condensed

into thought, a vision
of a prophesy collaged—
every element recombined,

mixtured, untethered—
a geography that flies out
of the cartographer’s hand,

the boundaries erased
by imaginary lines—life!—
mysterious and beautiful