Light.


Sometimes,
all I wait for is the change of light.
Softly, timelessly - light becomes the morning.
The blush of re birth on a glittering hillside,
The morning is joy and the wild birds rejoice.
The greys timeless procession into blue; into pink
And then the flash, the gold glory of the day.

Sometimes
I am held still, by the liquid lights of summer-
Brash and bold; slowly seducing me with its richness.
The heat itself is woven in to the light,
I smell the spell it weaves -
Till even the smell becomes woven
Shimmering in make believe pools of light.

Sometimes
when I am hurrying home in my car,
to my house, my family, to things that need doing...
I send my thoughts behind me to this other reality
hoping to remember the light show
Going on... sending a silent salute
to the gleaming miracle of light...

Sometimes
All I need is the change of light.

Middle Child