My cell is part of a living animal, plant
or alien. I traveled 1,000’s of years at
the speed of light —

Pages turn

My cell is the shore, pounding is the
roaring sea, a lifetime spent seeking
treasure.

Years turn

No longer a cell, this place in my
imagination, every thought and idea
passes before me in the night, painted ink
upon a forest and I find that now,

It’s my turn.