Singing Light

When I was ill, I walked

the antiseptic corridors,

holding God so tightly 

I couldn’t see a thing.

Only now, years later, have 

I had this dream in which 

a small bird is singing light.

It follows me and everything 

it brushes begins to glow. 

I catch it, to have with me always.

But in my hands, it stops singing.

It’s made me see that more than 

holding, we need to be held, 

by the larger things that 

enable us to live out loud.

A Question to Walk With: Feel a fear you are struggling with. Breathe steadily till you can settle, however briefly, to the stillness that exists below your fear, below all fear. Listen to this stillness. Drink from this stillness. Describe to a friend what the space below your fear feels like.

This excerpt is from my new book of poems in progress, A Thirst for Simple Light.

*Photo Credit: Pixabay