How little I know
still of you,
the thoughts you had,
little boy,
lost like me
growing up someplace
between imagination and
now.

The tissue of time
pre-systemizing
us for today
you in morning
by my side.

They say the beginning was beautiful
moments after
the big bang.
Simpler,
less atomic mess.

It must have been like breathing
when we first wake up
comprehending all there is
in front of us
by the common way we see.