Playing with the Sun

The cerulean pond of human hands
Not quite real when I was there alone
But then, I am not of their verisimilitude

The ardent clement temperature
Steadied itself in the late day
Causing the glistening braid of photons
That attracted me to this place

From the sectioned roof
To the surface of the water
Invisible until hitting the teal murk underneath

I dive in, eyes open
Seeing through chlorine blurred vision
And come up where cement is replaced by feral forest

Lavished on the banks,
Swimming along side me;
Suddenly the nymphs are here
Cloaks of pellucid colors draped away on hollyhocks

The sun still dashes below me.
I kick down and touch the tendrils of light
Playing with it while it remains here

Scintillant lines cast a resplendent strip at the bottom
Unformed deliquescent holdings
Being the only thing that can catch its radiant rest,
At least among this planet of thought

I bob through the incandescent, unobtainable beams
Swirling with them while there is a chance,
For even as the same caress of brightness
Illuminates upon all outside,
There is no feeling it out there

For it merely shades upon a leaf
And burns upon a hand,
And sleeps on the earth

It does not dance or shimmer
Or glow with aurulent sheen

This here is the only way to catch the sun

Unaware of the world’s revolutions
I only notice reality when the flaxen fluctuations
Began to creep up the side of the gray wall
(for as it receded this was no longer another realm to me)
And merge into translucence once more with the air

I quickly placed my hand on its void warmth
To hold it one more time before it left,
And I became lost again,
Following its unseen journey outside

I leave myself behind for another lonely afternoon