WISPS OF SMOKE

Like eager tendrils spreading from a frond

two wisps of smoke curl towards each other

crawling out of the darkness of confinement

Owing existence to the breath of a genie

whispering hope within a dream buried in time

They stare transfixed at distance diminishing

emptiness disappearing, unleashing power

that fuels a kindling, vaulting restriction

In an ever constricting spiral that spins

with trepidation mingled with elation

White lines against ink, swirling in a dream

caressing the borders of detached insanity

with a zest for living, oblivious of the rain

that with its unexpected arrival, threatens to dampen 
the best laid plans of life's ethereal moments 

Two wisps, born from the desire to explore

join hands and feet in a hazy embrace

basking in the brief glory of serendipitous unity

before dawn casts an enquiring eye and clears the mist

Supplanting dreams with ideas afresh and anew