Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Your Light

author’s note:

While struggling through one more rewrite of this poem... my surprise I discovered a special feeling rising in me.

Maybe you'll struggle with this poem as well.  If you do, I hope you'll also receive something in return.


Your light remains
long after you
have left the room--

does that light
actually belong to you?
Perhaps you were
just the torch-bearer--
the messenger

beaming to me still--

still signaling me to spill
my light all over this room--
now I can see

my colors sweep
the floor, walls and ceiling--
now I can see
my colors shout out the window:

out there I can see
your travels must've pulled you
I can see that light

in the bright of an eye
in the glow of a hand

in luminous trees and the beams made from those trees

in igneous stones and foundations made of those stones

in the coal fire dawn, in the diamond at midday

in the quiet midnight freedom
of the stars bold navigators follow.

I see the light in every step...

every step along the way.

© 2013, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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