Pixie Dust

PIXIE DUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSST

One must endure the presence of a few caterpillars

before one can become acquainted with a butterfly

let dead poetry rise once more to life

the best and most beautiful things in the world

cannot be seen or touched 

they must be felt

with the heart

but all the world is made of faith

and trust

and a little bit of pixie dust

isn't it pretty to think so

to see the place you came from with new eyes 

and extra colors

but behind every exquisite thing that exists

there is something tragic

there is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness

and impossible to say which is which

eating at your precarious pitiful existence 

knocking multiple times on the door of unhappiness

condemned not only in innocence 

but ignorance

floating in an empty universe

of infinite possibilities

full of obvious things

that nobody by any chance ever observes

that in itself is a tremendous thing

the rest is darkness

but the real universe is always one step beyond logic 

made weak by time and fate

strong in will

by vigor 

and resolution

and fate is but the passing shadow of a cloud

a puddle

and compared to the high seas of time

there are darknesses in life and lights too

and you are one of the lights

exploding like spiders across the night sky

holding the universe together

you are a wonderful creation

but one must have chaos

within one's self 

to give birth 

to a dancing star

Author's Note

It went in a little bit of a dark spiral, but I got it back on track. written with this lovely person in mind: https://www.writerscafe.org/DecentlyOkay

Reviews

[The_Ancient_Rock]

Very good poem. All the world is made of faith indeed.
We all can use more of that pixie dust.
Enjoyed reading it. Great piece.
Keep it up! Take good care.
😄