Stories, Poetry, and Magic
Inky black
From the lighted room.
So bleak.
So dark.
Can one return?
Stepping out.
The stars shine bright.
It looked so dark,
But there is light.
Splashes of light
Everywhere.
From the road.
The sky.
Reflecting off the stairs.
No longer surrounded
By the darkness.
Open to the world
The light has found us.
Decked so merrily.
Tree is lit.
The world can see.
How it fit.
Golden rays.
The tree of sun.
Joyous days.
It has begun.
like diamonds on the grass
the frost shimmers
glitters and glows
captivating
capturing
creating a world
alive with wonder
a little frosty
on the surface
until the sun hits it
The light is burning brighter,
Beckoning us to follow through.
Come now it says, the light has found you.
Follow, we must, it is our choice,
To be guided by the light,
Beckoning us to follow through.
It speaks to us in whispers.
Guiding us to flow with it,
Toward the unknown.
Can you hear the call,
Beckoning to come forward,
The time is now.
Do not hesitate.
Do not fear.
Come toward the light now,
For the light will keep life clear.
Perched on the deck railing. Looking all around. He caws once. Enough to get my attention. My attention captured. He starts his dance. Bouncing up and down on the railing, head bobbing. I can almost hear the music he must be listening to. His feet catch the rhythm; send him jumping all around. Now his head is bobbing, feet are jumping, tail feathers are twitching, and he starts singing. Caws of music. Rhythm all his own. He is joy. He is light. He is music.
