A thousand paper cranes flew through my dreams last night.
Words, fervently scripted, on delicate washi sheets inscribed in ebony, (ink darker than the midnight sky) and folded, carefully, by the tiny hands of the unknown then thrown, into the atmosphere, like heartfelt messages tossed to sea.
They carried with them hushed secrets of forlorn lovers separated by miles or circumstance, wishes, whispered into their wings, by children, that dare to dream and to create fairy tales, in their minds, and wisdom, of those that have carried the tremendous weight of knowledge on their shoulders across this vast earth.
They beckoned to me, like paper lanterns, glowing in the wind, to reach out and gather their delicately crafted bodies and unfold that which was cast to the breeze, in hopes, of being harnessed by the universe.
I closed my eyes and wished, upon all the stars in the heavens, that I may reach out and cage the bird inscribed by only you.
I longed to hear it sing the loving notes of your sweet lullaby to me. Your words, written on it’s wings. I want to tattoo my skin in a million words of love, (your words) (your love) and bleed only ink.
But when I reached for them, they came to life and flew, towards the horizon on paper wings powered, by the lungs of creation.