Light poem

Lest it not sound light giving
We call it fluff, an idle floater
Only to get stuck on the way,
A point in rays of white light
Holding head up in big blue .

It is grey irregular irony ball
With cotton rays emanating
Toward reaching earth point
Where it can land and sprout.

Sure not all that light giving
But life giving, to earth below
It randomly opts to mix with
And sprout in, for future balls
A lightness of being is about.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s