Ethereal, Evanescent,

Where light end and dark begins,

Where the air rides thin

And light, like love, is rare,

My soul wanders,

Free from corporeal concerns.

In dream it left the leaden weight

Of bone and blood

And pain and pleasure

Senses anchors severed,

Left floundering behind.

The sun begins to toil

It’s fingers grasping at the rim

As it labours to reach the sky

And its effort echoes

In the sea

As kelpies meres and afancs

Flee to darker depths

And I surface from my sleep,

The whirling confusion

Of contrary currents

That keeps me for a moment

Where my soul sailed high

Until weight of the day

Brings my feet to ground

And pulls my head from clouds.

© Greg Richards

3 thoughts on “Light

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