I remember stories about math savants who saw number patterns floating in the air aound their heads.
The pieces fit together so well.
It all made sense.
It all worked.

I wonder if the words are there,
floating in my face.
Hovering like little pieces of gold leaf.

Embers climbing high
Like fireflies in the campfire sky
before you scooped them in to your bottle.

Don’t swat them away.

Fireflies die.

Embers fade.

But words are gold which won’t decay.

#writtenword