CPoetry

the boisterous air fizzles and flits around the room like the freshly freed bubbles of a young champagne. while the others keep climbing the mountain with a happy, drunken gait--- i follow along--- all too aware that i have, again, stepped on that plateau. i have, again, faced the choice of making my summit, or stopping here and resting--- while they reach the top and kiss the stars. ::: every night for several years, i lit a candle before i sat quietly to find my stillness. it became my ritual. it became my symbol. this candle reflected my soul--- the eternal flame of being. ---or so i thought. on one such night, sitting in my stillness, i heard a voice ask me, "where is the light?" it repeatedly and patiently asked me, "where is the light?" until i began to ask myself. ~ every night, i sit quietly to find my stillness, but i have ceased to light the candle. ::: there a

the sun bowed and a soft rain accepted a dance, while i walked the path. sunflowers climbed on each others' shoulders trying to see what life had to bring. red and white roses were unfurling without rules underneath the canopy of the sunflowers' excitement. it was unusual to see all three flowers growing in the same place--- with the daytime stars reflecting in the sleepy sun's hues. but i believed it to be true; i believed sun and rain could be together in harmony. i, too, believed the same in faith, love, and hope. ::: for light, for love. for light, for love. each phrase repeated with each step i took. i walked and i was not alone. who followed in my shadow was six feet high, with a long, black cloak melting over broad shoulders. gloves hid the hands from the truth, and the eyes were dark brown. only the eyes i could see. for light, for love. for light, for love. "you will not determine my life."