See the chalk dust huddle in hooded hunches under the board
With chunks like icebergs on a sea of silent scribbles
They once were words, figures, doodles, numbers
Names, points, swirls, swoops, stretches of imagination
Once alive in anticipation.
Purring, praying, practically begging
To be picked up from the ground and held with both arms
Curious trinkets wrapped in layers of enigma and manila paper
Caressed, crossed, centered and folded, examined on both sides
Their bodies turn into dust and motes that mock the air
Sprouting sails and wings in minds and land on golden grounds
Some sing a silent tune then sizzle, spit and sputter
Forgotten in folders, left on top of discarded desks
Some lucky ones are caught, grasped and crossed in interest
Kept in tiny bookmarks, cloned in notebooks and paper sheets
They sprung immortal veins, raced into bloodstreams
Dispensed into minds, populated in imaginations
Emptied, envisioned, engrossed, molded into star-shaped bites
Swallowed and savored, chewed and spewed, garnished to their liking
Some sported a seed, took roots, seasoned in the mind, shared in speech
Enriched and empowered an impoverished mind,
They, like children who crave sustenance, are helpless to our follies
Our choices mark their life or impending doom
We grasp or let go, we nurture or neutralize, we seek or shake
Their fates lay hanging between our hands and our heads
Sealed, imprinted, and engraved in our hearts.