It’s the light, the light

the morning light


on dew torn field,


it glimmers in the dust

makes waves across the path


like omnipresence of

an unknown God.


This time of year

when earth’s threadbare


I gather all my diamonds

wash them in this morning light;


still grateful for the play

of rainbow on my wall,


the singing in my heart


connects me to

the annals of the past


the day we met:


sunlight in a park

you all pink & bright


on a light filled luminescent

day like this.


(Listen here)





Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s