Little light
In this courtyard
I can play with the vanishing blue
it is all but eloquent silence.
when i see the clouds splitting blood
the leaves rustle in despair
drop me weightless, motionless.
in this space
rain soaks the wrinkled skin
still i can hear the perfect pitch.
when I sing a song for you
a little light washes my face
Going inside to greet you in my dream.
A calm and spiritually restorative poem.
Thanks Louis, Much appreciated.