Like thousands of endless ribbons,
floating, streaming, dancing through
a limitless forest of birch and pine.
Like a million mourners lamenting the dead,
wailing, crying, echoing across,
an old tarnished mirror, rippled and smooth at the same time.
Like hundreds of pinpricks,
grasping, seeking, hungering for
a life source, rich with nutrition to feed their young.
Like scores of glowing lanterns,
flying, blinking, glimmering above
a tapestry of greens and browns.
Like a cushion beneath hurt,
squishing, cradling, conforting under
a pair of used, worn soles.
