this

this is just something, a whispering silent thought
of wondering, a muted question held suspended
in mind's timeless grasp, a slippery, slithering
rope holding fast, noosed around the expression
of this.

this is just nothing, a thrown away glance
of fear, a horrid thought drowned deep
within dream's forgotten sea of nightmarish cries,
curling sounds of shredded hopes, smoldering embers
of this.

but this is now everything, a sudden soaring
of freeborn, skyward prayers of fiery arms
reaching, feeling for air's tendril touch, a leap
stretching, mind catching, arms grasping
for this.