Emily Dickinson, in a moment
Of glorified enlightenment, wrote
The brain is wider than the sky
But I have to disagree
Because I could not have
Imagined the blue
That reflects as
Particles
Off the
Sea
Nor
Could I
Form pictures
Of fluffy clouds
Sewn together by
Drops of hydrogen and
Oxygen resting in the sky
With a chemical attraction
Pulling them together until they
Bond as a liquid and fall down as rain
The intoxicating kiss of a breeze
As it teases my tingling skin
Was not spawned from my mere fancy
The blazing sun was not birthed
By imagination
My brain lacks power
To blink stars in
Existence
But if
We
All
Come from
One past star’s
Grand explosion
Then my mind, like the
Sky, is composed of dust
Fallen grace of galaxies
Therefore, my dearest Emily,
Regardless of the width of my brain
It can’t exceed the sky as they are one