It doesn’t have to be bountiful;
slender illumination
coils through dusky crevices
announcing
“This is home.”
Announcing
“Come. Ascend. Play.”.
The darkness fits like skin,
like dusty dreams,
like shelter.
But the light,
brittle and slight
pleads for you.
Shed this obsidian pelt.
It is time to head out now.
The darkness is vast
but the light
doesn’t have to be bountiful
it only has to be enough.
This poem was inspired by the wonderful artwork of Margaret Joan MacIsaac
