page 112

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."

its steps continued without synchronization

to remind me of its presence.

for light, for love.

for light, for ---.

my voice had become too prideful.

the blackness could sense my fallacy,

and a hand was placed on my shoulder.

a weight of all weights.

a weight that stopped time itself.

this time i would not accept defeat,

so i turned to face the eyes of eyes.

the look that took away sight itself.

i wanted to run,

but i stayed because of the change.

the blackness began to shrink.

the weight on my shoulder lifted.

the eyes became a familiarity;

a strong wind of recognization

swirled between us, and i felt compelled

then to give a white rose to it---

to thank it---

to understand it.

it accepted my rose,

turned its back from my eyes,

and began to walk in the opposite direction.

:::

when it feels as though a thumb

and pointer finger pinch the light,

remember to turn your gaze downward;

the path remains wide, and the river

always leads to the ocean or the valley.