Summer fragrance, lazy, golden warmth.
The memory hovers within my grasp, a glimpse of shadows, and then gone.
The past is tiny colored fragments with no form to make an image from.
Did once, I live, feel the dark, rich earth between my hands?
Did I leave footprints in the sand? The image fades; it is forgot.
I glide away upon the moon's slipstream and cast no shadow on the land.
For I am nothing, I am no one, the lightest breath caressing your cheek,
A whisper of breeze that lifts your hair, murmuring softly, but cannot speak.
Nor can I hear a distant echo of a voice, once mine.
Had I a name? I don't recall. These things are lost among the mists of time.
I am nothing, I am no one, but I am free...
Free to dance across the water's sheen, sail across the sky,
Admire a frosted, crystal moon, as it paints the earth with platinum light.
Feel the sunset melt the dazzling blue,
Spill down into a molten sea and sink from view.
Such splendor, the wonders I could share,
But I drift along a solitary plane.
Of my presence, you are unaware.
A mote of dust upon a sunbeam,
The shimmer on a web, fine spun,
A reflection in a raindrop,
I am nothing, I am no one.
The Genie
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