Remains

Into the wilderness
Amongst the calm
The quiet
The verdant
Lays lost
What was hidden
Too easily
Remaining as remains
Though it calls out
Wanting to be found
Wanting to remembered
As alive.

i miss the light

i see too much…

too sharply, strongly

too vividly, viciously

 

i miss the light…

not chemical, not electrical

not that cruel piercing imperfection revealing lit object.

why not some dimness…?

 

some  smoothness…

some dark to wrap around softly but not at all lessen…

some thing hidden…

some thing saved…

some thing for one to know and one to find out…

 

let the light be created,

 

let it slowly fade the light-maker

 

let it lick, slide, drip, drop, fall, fly and burn…

 

let it leave a trace as all living things do…

 

let it spark, grow, flame, flicker, falter…

 

let it live and as all, let it leave.

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it is real

it is real
it happens

yet there seems to be no place for it
when there are so many other tangible, physical, material things to be had.

there is no room for something that takes up no such space
do not search for it, it is not lost, just waiting to be found.

when word cannot define it but waits for the claim to label it
what need do we have of something that could be anything?

i cannot prove you have it,
i have to take your word for it
the same word that cannot define
what it is you and i cannot see
but what we feel…