Sand and lego,
Both castle makers,
Two ingredients for the same soft palms.
How building castles is a child’s way
Of getting lost in time.
The bricks and the wet sand,
One coarse and one fine, what are wonders
Of architecture, medieval and yet timely.
The architect who looks at the finished castle
In awe. How something as small as a lego piece
Or a crystal of sand, could make something
This beautiful. One day that child
Will build a castle of the heart,
The same way he assembles lego pieces
And tightens crystals of sand.
The soft palms holding the material
Dreams are made of. The craftsmanship
That goes to building a dream,
The starlit places inside a different fortress,
The skull. How it is not lego or sand,
But made of stardust,
The material, sonnets of Shakespeare were
Made of, the atoms that gained shape
Inside William’s mind.
The kinetics of how every dream,
Begins as nothing, becomes something,
And one day, it awakens you to an epiphany,
How that dream is now,