ofttimes, my mind rebels, <br />against the hand that reality <br />has (seemingly) dealt us. <br />the creatures, monsters to some, <br />living and breathing in the shadows <br />are burnt away in suns clear rays. <br />as a child i once questioned <br />and then decided that <br />a life of magical thinking, even <br />if proved false, would be preferable to <br />a life with all the wonder limited <br />to the over-clear rays of a microscope. <br />but now, as i sit on the wrong side of time, <br />i see the wonder in the microscope, <br />its construction, and the structures <br />revealed in its glance.<br /><br />Christopher Withers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/over-clear-rays/