A LIGHT THAT STREAMS
Madly sane,
passionately calm,
once upon a time
I have been there,
now no more. Birds call
as they build
their fragile nests;
I listen and watch,
neither mad nor sane,
anxious, perturbed by solicitude
for the one perched on the branch,
reaching out, holding forth
a branch and a twig or two.
Once upon a time
the passion preceded calm
like a lightening before it streamed across a sky;
now, a cool look spreads a calm,
a light that streams
from the moon to a lake,
unaware of the moon in the sky.
It's for the moon to send the light
and let it fall where it falls;
it's for the lakes and the valleys,
for the mountain tops,
for the little casements of little homes
to take it and weave the calm
into their hearts and dreams.
Image Courtesy : Fabien Todescato
Madly sane,
passionately calm,
once upon a time
I have been there,
now no more. Birds call
as they build
their fragile nests;
I listen and watch,
neither mad nor sane,
anxious, perturbed by solicitude
for the one perched on the branch,
reaching out, holding forth
a branch and a twig or two.
Once upon a time
the passion preceded calm
like a lightening before it streamed across a sky;
now, a cool look spreads a calm,
a light that streams
from the moon to a lake,
unaware of the moon in the sky.
It's for the moon to send the light
and let it fall where it falls;
it's for the lakes and the valleys,
for the mountain tops,
for the little casements of little homes
to take it and weave the calm
into their hearts and dreams.
Image Courtesy : Fabien Todescato
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