poem

the universe is a fading rose trembling on ballerina toes plucked by invisible hands and tossed upon windswept sands the sands are our immortal souls disappearing down black holes never to be seen again until the dreamer wakes - o when? when will the sun return? when will the flame burn? when will the trees walk? when will the grass talk? when will wise men climb down from the walls and listen to the rain as it falls washing away their prophecies like dandelions laughing in the breeze?