Briiing,
I groan and grope after the morning light,
Briiing,
Fumbling for a purpose, I press for silence,
and squeeze my eyes tight.

Pop,
a giggle escapes–a spark of delight,
pop,
as the crystal drops burst,
I jump to and fro.

​

But no,
I swallow and swallow
whoosh,
gulp and gulp, I dive within,
whoosh–
wait, a child's cry, a plea for warmth,
she needs a loving embrace; I push forward,
oh, how her eyes are glistening with terror!

Wait,
is she looking at me?

But no,
thump,
that scent of freshly baked heaven,
thump, my heart races,
demanding that elusive prize,
in her tiny hands.

Wait, who is she?

Briiing,
Briiing,

I totter to my mirror,
And someone stares back.

But hey, who are you?
Are you the real me?
Or am I a grasshopper, a storm, a pup;

or,
maybe, just maybe,
are you from another world,
where I will whirl away from?