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The Light

August 5, 2012

As I walk into the lightbox,

I move more slowly there

There is a purpose in my toes, my hands.

Illumination hurts at times

Breaks into solitude

Forges paths from darkness

And shows a different sphere

Of life

Of death.

 

As I move inside the lightbox,

Choices remain clear

Brilliance shines on all within

Enticing neither way.

 

I cast a wanting glance outside

To fragment the  light

One moment, one that turns to three.

Will I step outside once more?

Would I journey back?

When experience leans to the darkness,

The light can push me afar.

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