Desire beckons with its unseen undertow,
Bringing order to the chaos in which we wander,
Once sown seeds emerge and grow,
Food for thought that we tend to squander,
Shooting stars that sprout wings and fly the summer night,
Tiny morsels of love,
That fluoresce and glow, then flicker out of sight,
Spark memories of joy that float somewhere up above
Deep in the fiery furnace below our lives
We cast our favorite icons into shiny metal forms
They collect like honey in our hives,
And somehow seem to survive the storms
We willingly follow these models of our own construction,
Like so many banners that lead the way,
They narrow our path and reduce obstruction,
Improving our chances to save the day,
What made them come to be?
Why, while fashioning our desire into something tangible
Does a certain form come through the prism sentry
Nebulous at first, then later, more substantial
From the dashboard Jesus to the "perfect girl",
We live out our lives with these personages of our own design,
Unmodified from the beginning, they spin and twirl
By these images we ourselves are defined.
An endless play on a revolving stage,
Roles that exist before time began,
Are supplied by the living in a dark or golden age,
The question remains, who is the master and what is the plan