… my light.

By J. K. McDowell

January 2012

 

Morning mist – I see the fading prayer flags draped

On the fig tree.  What was it that I wanted from the future:

A smile, a kind word or a knife to cut these bonds?

 

What is hidden in the fog that lasts through lunchtime?

So many unsatisfied appetites linger

Into the future.  The Unseen’s table set before us.

 

I will not argue over the foretold malicious

Gestures of the one hand but do not trust and

Turn away from that poison blade in the other.

 

The beach is strewn with empty glass bottles, no messages.

Do you believe this wandering is penance

For some forgotten trespass?  Rest and wait for dark.

 

When you look back, please see me when I held you in

My arms and not when I wheeled away hurtful

And weak.  Hope embraces your forgiveness tonight.

 

Jim, the moon grants us a soft lunacy.  I am

Stretched thin, to translucency.  Soon I will be

Invisible – you will see my darkness and my light.

 

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