Midnight's  Run

I am the sun, I run with the light that dapples things seen with color, the tones that paint nuances in every form

They fill my wondered eyes and teach me wisdom
young soul that I am, so green I absorb them to live and to learn with each inhale of breath and work of my hands...

Creation that creates me, the perennial child taken by the Master and molded from the minerals of my own soft clay, mutable to any given turn of the wheel

You are the moon, you feast on the stars and the shadows of night and the mist of things unseen, forgotten

They have followed you here and fill the depths of your soul where words cannot reach or teach what cannot be uttered between the lines void of ink...

Whispered wisps of lonliness, wafts of incense in ancient cathedrals, crinkle of yellow parchment, the stillness of winter's exhaled sighs across empty canvas, a fiery flame with blue center received in open palms

What can I give you beyond a child's heart and the lilt of laughter, tears fallen from fears I do not understand brought here from another time
and the gift of healing touch that is left wanting except for thought?

You are the one who has called my name among the quiet stars, the cold air that burns my cheek, the sigh of curtains in an open window and the shadow which surrounds me in my deepest sleep

I struggle for sight in the dark contours of your hidden sorrow, choke on the dry winds of chance that blow through your canyons and if not for intuition I would be lost, I rely on instinct for you are mute

So I release you to the wind that carried you here and carries you on, knowing I cannot hold air in my trembling hand as I linger to catch the last fingers of need that reach out to me, however cool to the touch...

(c) Linda Gayton 2006