Light

 It’s the light, the lightthe morning light on dew torn field, it glimmers in the dustmakes waves across the path like omnipresence ofan unknown God. This time of yearwhen earth’s threadbare I gather all my diamondswash them in this morning light; still grateful for the playof rainbow on my wall, the singing in my heart connects me tothe annals of the past the day we met: sunlight in a parkyou all pink & bright on a light filled luminescentday like this. (Listen here)