The edge of fractal pattern
And the sand within the glass;
The scratch upon the surface
Transformation comes to pass.

The dust within a cold sky,
New creation there is born
To blanket earth in whiteness
As a greeting to the morn.

The wings of tiny insect
Beating from a distant shore
Provoking stormy purchase,
Such power cannot be ignored.

The rays so gently beaming
From a clear and open sky
Until you’re given purpose
And despite this you ask why.

The movement of the airstream
In formation of the cloud
To centre on the target
Then engage enormous sound.

Observer hidden, distant
Looking on your quantum foam
Excluded from awareness
As you’re sitting in your home.

© G.Burns 9-Jun-2012