Spires

It's okay to write-- it's beautiful!
What cruel world convinced me otherwise--
Yet in the same breath wiped ignorance away?
This life is a fantasy,
A shroud we envelope ourselves in--
Steel framework connected with mental rivets,
Through which sweet breezes of dreams flow.
I've been sleeping.
Mind far tinier than required
To process both my ignorance and enlightenment at once!
Bless'd by a steady flow of time
Distinguishing then from now and always,
Yet all is one.
I am but a tiny chime tinging in the breeze,
Great spires of creation tower 'round me.
So I must be ingenuitive with my awareness,
Giving due heed to the now!
Forging not forward, but inward,
a concentrated focus like a knife.
My nature is to be extracted, yet
Grown as though in a garden.
My purpose being that work.