The flashes are daily now,
the forgotten Astrophysics lessons,
-- meant for the stars,
grounded for substance --
visits me in the mornings...
When, earlier,
I would only see chaos
dancing at the traffic lights
next to my window,
the dance for a living.
Now, I deal with bubbles,
brewing in the warmth
of my words,
thoughts and deeds,
a fine white brew
meant to be gulped down,
but sipped, always, like whiskey.
That's a galaxy, it's the Milky Way,
and it's where science ends,
and my art begins.
-- Leslie
