Ignored Light

Hello my love

Can you hear me from my place down here?

With my toes in the dirt and my eyes wide, reflecting back your soft white light

Can you cocoon me?

Wrap supportive beams around me, hold me in the way a mother does

Trace designs against appled cheeks, sworn declarations of laughter and love winging bright eyes

Limbs reaching up to be dappled in your glow

How kind of you to follow me home

To stitch my shadow to my shoes while you rock the ocean’s waves like an afterthought, a salty bassinet on curved legs

Do you really give chase, or is it another story woven by the ancestral spiders, in the corners of temples exhumed? I used to set out hurdles. Would you have jumped?

Hello my darling

Do you ever feel sad?

All alone in the sky, witnessing your children in their quietest moments?

Does it hurt to see their spent prayers washing the floors of dreamt tombs? Do you relish in that trust, or does it crack you open, ichor staining the floors in the halls of the gods?

Do you wonder? Can you still? Or do your bones carry a weary knowing? Is it deep, etched into whatever form you take, scars that never vanish, wounds that never heal?

What is it to know? To feel the aches of the world, to hold them in your palms?

Is it different where you are?

Hello again, old friend.

I’m sorry I’ve not written.

I’ve missed you terribly.

Can you sing me to sleep?