The secret life we live.
In our minds.
In our hearts.
In our souls.

Never to be proudly displayed in the store front window,
but hidden in the dark, dusty store room:
Kept under lock and key.

Because when revealed,
our secret lives are belittled,
mocked.
“It is just the ugly underside of a placemat,” they say.

Instead of being embraced,
reached,
loved as a child’s favorite toy,
and cherished like an awe-inspiring masterpiece.

So our secret lives remain concealed.
Lost to everyone but ourselves,
and seen only through the mind’s eye,
as we stumble into potholes and puddles.

But,
as life snaps the thread being woven,
and forces us to leave the private sanctity of our workrooms,

minds, hearts, and souls
dance to the harmony of imagination,
sing of the joys discovered in darkness,
and weave uncountable tapestries
depicting secret lives
never lived.