Light

There are things that come

Spinning out of the darkness

Little flecks of blinding light

 

They hit some invisible ceiling

At the back of my throat and then

Spinning, fall back down to the depths

 

There is a land down there, far away

An Atlantis so ancient

That my memory of it is but snippets

 

Of its music, a forgotten note or

A lyric half sung, a sort of golden

Sweetness that rises and falls

 

With the blinding light. No stories do I know

Of how or why or where that land drowned

Or what ocean lives on with a secret heart

 

And just so my own voice calls out to me

My own song sings in echoes and whispers

In the lights that dance where heart touches soul

 

Where soul meets harp

Where harp strums love

And love strokes gently, the back of my tongue.

 

Image Source: https://pixabay.com/p-186752/?no_redirect

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