The light of you
twinkles on your skin
sends shooting stars crackling from the top of your head.
The light of you
glows blue green like phosphorescence
attracting, inviting.
You are bio-luminescence
shimmering on an ocean,
trails flowing after you like an evening gown.
I reach to dip my hand into the water and watch the light
die in my palm.
I long to live in your light,
bathe in the beauty,
float in the flotilla of the mesmerized, microscopic worshipers
flowing after you.
But you go your way
and I go home.
I gaze after you, and wonder if you’ve shared enough of you,
for me to generate light
of my own.
.
.
.
(for Sheri-D)
It’s always a let down at the end of a conference to leave the like minds of other writers, and return home to quotidian life. This was a particularly good conference for me, with lots of messages from the universe (or rather one that just kept coming up over and over). I am hopeful the words will be off on interesting journeys as a result of the learning.
Shawn L. Bird 