Then, Now.

Heap of sand

scooped off some dune distant

that'd have blinded me in an instant

Now sits in the mirror showing me

what I otherwise couldn't

A tree

felled from amid its kin

in some thicket distant

Now bears the weight of my ambitions

in the four legs of table

A pod of cotton

swaying in wilderness

flirting with rain and gale

Now woven intricate to keep me

from nature without and within

A drop of divine

mingled with stardust

honed over millennia of evolution

Now ponders ceaseless

over some words and verses made up

Unaware,

the greatest poem

is writing itself

every moment

I breathe being aware

of who I were

before becoming

a sapient fool

searching for muse

or the Gods I could use