My Imagined World

A world, the world?

World in my hand.

Not even hands, just one. Small, but still grand.

I hold it, not hot, not cold, just there.

Gazing at it with an unbroken stare.

Glass, it seems, but maybe more?

Maybe it could be real, real in my mind, using my imagination

Like I did when I was four.

When did that stop? It doesn’t have to.

Yes the world is clear, but I can see it in any color: green, blue.

Maybe a world of the past - the future?

Maybe not a world we know at all.

A world where things float, not fall.

Gravity isn’t a thing known to this race.

The people, what of the people? Interesting. Smart?

Would they greet me with a smiling face?

I look back up, I look at my little glass world, it has a story now.

Another story, one of many I can imagine.

I hadn’t forgotten, I still knew how.

It’s been hours. Hours thinking, enjoying having found that special place in my mind.

Grabbed it and put it on display, it was sinking

All from my mind, I created a universe.

The beauty of imagination, a tiny world’s story in pencil and vase.