The Dreamer's Pen

You came in like a giggle

draped in gemstone light,

emerald, turquoise, purple flame,

all stitched into your wings

like some sky-born crown

designed by mischief and moonlight.

You weren’t flying,

you were flirting,

circling me like a secret,

like you knew I needed to be reminded

that joy still has wings.

A little jeweled angel,

dipped in luxury,

bedazzled by nature herself,

you twirled through the warm air

like a decadent prayer

that forgot to take itself too seriously.

How dare you be that beautiful?

That opulent.

That careless with grace.

You flickered like a chandelier in flight,

wings catching sunlight like laughter

catching in my throat.

And I, too human,

too heavy to follow,

could only watch

as you danced just out of reach,

mocking gravity,

mocking logic,

making art out of the moment.

You didn’t stay long.

They never do.

But you reminded me,

just for a breath,

that life is not always about staying grounded.

Sometimes it’s about becoming light,

for no reason

except the delight of it.