A, a poem by Andrew D. Carson

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Poems by Andrew D. Carson

With otter grace I glide along the sunlit surface,
Then flip and dive toward the darker depths,
To cavort with creatures there, secret and unknown,
And then return to light and sky, well-fed.

Ideas swarm me like a cloud of gnats,
No shortage there, my blessing and my curse,
A surfeit of possibility, roiling nodes of chance,
I unpack them as they strut their stuff before me.

When does play end, and life's work begin?
And whose rules shall guide those for whom rules lie?
When all is said and done, must all be done and said,
By those for whom a Neverland may serve as home?

Joy with each creation, and constant gladness
In the uncovering and representation of novel things,
Renewing the world against the day when new things end, And life lies cold, and in stone silence sings its last.