Light

He is my Light, though I cannot see

I look up at the sky in the morning
And the sun blinds me - pleasantly.

The sun reaches down
And wraps it’s warm rays around me.

“When you’re alone,” says the sun, “look up at me.
I shall remind you of your love.”

“My love,” I mutter, “has left me bitter.
I shall never feel again.”
And so I shun its rays.

I look up at the sky in the night
And the moon lights the sky - beautifully.

The moon reaches down
And wraps it’s cool beams around me.

“When you’re alone,” speaks the moon, look up at me.
I shall remind you of your love.”

“My love,” I sneer, “has left me bitter.
I shall never feel again.”
And so I shun its beams.

And though I feel rotted
From the inside out
I know he’s there.

There are signs of him in everything I do.
Everything I think
Or feel
Or see
Or hear
Or smell
Or taste.


Though I cannot
Feel or
See or
Hear or
Smell or
Taste quite as well as I used to with him,

I know.

Author's Note

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