I shaped a universe today,

just a little more than I had the day before.

I added rain on another planet,

far from the plot,

and though the souls on earth will never see the rain,

they will feel it.

It will rattle in their very core,

and they will feel just that much more

complete

than the day before.

I shaped a soul today,

just a little more than I had a month ago,

when he first flittered into existence.

I gave him a dance,

a song of his people,

the hope of new beginnings and of lovely ends.

When a daydream, two dimensional,

but today he envoked his own thought,

and he gave a cry of his own.

Now I am faced with the hardest thought

an author will ever face:

If the very light inside of me

were to flicker out...

If the edges and strands of that threadbare hope

were to unravel...

That cry would go unheard,

That rain would never fall,

and I will feel just that much more

lonely

than the day before.