The light in the distance
It gets dark suddenly. One walked along a green path unseen and yet you felt connected to the beginning of the day. Now the story has found a place where going forward is the only way and yet you cannot see behind the trees
That’s my house ahead—on the other side of the fence
The light is always on at Night. Can you see the porch?
Can you Hear the song of my house? It calls into the dark with a sound like water or 100 wings a-waving. How that little light loves the dark
When the night falls hard breaking and
Splashing A liquid residue Of dream light
reminds us that we loved and tarried, and confident, hoped for more and lost our way.
These hundred beads of light
Gather them and as you do they will grow larger
And knock on the glass door. I will bring you in.
Dear Ms Rickie Lee, You are such a sublime poet.
Where I live, down a dirt road in the woods of Southern Oregon , the morning light is filtering through the trees right now…otherwise it is dark and silent here…See you in Woodstock in a couple weeks! Thrilling!🎶💜👍🏽Coolsville😎Deb
Sweet and soulful.