the storyteller

inside a sand-grain, perceptions of worlds
time stood still and I grasped the measure
of immeasurable things.
I am the storyteller, said she
and to weave the spirit's tapestry
is my ethereal purpose
as i sing of
silver inlays in stone, craftsmanship
of the ages
mist, dappled light, revealing and hiding
the trees, branches, reaching
standing still.
moving, swirling words
sounds come together,
formed
by a child's block lettering
the impossible may take shape
and disappear
without being seen.
breathe it in,
slowly,
like peering through key-holes,
softly, hidden, secret,
revealing,
longing.