Sunlight

Sunlight
slips between curtains
dust motes dancing–
catches dewdrops
on spider-silk
spills through leaves
in coins of gold,
breathes
on the living
bit
by
bit.

Sliding around tree trunks
pooling in doorways
creeping across floorboards
pausing on windowsills
waiting
searching
for kinship–
Touch.

Thawing winter
to feed spring.
Ruddying tomatoes
on the exhale of time.
Transforming laundry
into light-flags of home.
Enfolding the old woman
in a patient embrace,
offering–
without asking thanks.

But to have one–
who could meet his gaze,
and bear the full blaze
of living flame–
unshaken.
From rising to rest,
he searches–
the rock below him
slowly turning.

There must be
one
down
there
searching
like
me.

Then…


The silent, blazing fury in
her eyes
intensifies.


Moonrise.
sigh.


hello, beautiful.