The super secret location of happiness

The morning Sun is playing with illusions.
Dappling my wall
with louvered windows,
disjointed as they fall
across my desk before breaking
onto the wall.

As a child
I would seek these projections,
angled and shifted,
on the floor
and lie down in their warmth
hoping to fall through
to a land
of light and happiness.

Today
I find myself wondering
if all it took was time
to make it to the other side.
So I wave to the little boy
to let him know
we're here.
We made it.

Forecast

The Earth rolls
and light peeks
over the horizon,
sending a signal
to all creatures of light
that this day
will begin
with showers of amber
and shadows of amethyst
to be slowly replaced
with clear cerulean blues,
the type of sky
under which
possibilities
sprout
like embryonic roots
and humans undergo
their own
Photomorphogenesis,
becoming
people
once again.

In Spectrum

It is only a trick of light,
this moment at dawn
as the Earth rolls in
the light of the Sun,
but this shadow play
connects
this time
with time before
and allows my mind to see
what in full daylight
might cause concern
showered
in tangerine and alabaster
and allows me
to strip away
excess
and see
bare truth
but
it is only
a trick of light.

Hold that Thought

-- in response to De Jackson’s Boxing Shadows from day 2 of the April PAD

This box full of darkness

has a small hole

in one of the corners

where it bangs up against hope.

And hope,

(that little devil never gives up)

carrying thirty times her weight in despair,

turns the box

from this dank corner

so light

can enter

and hope

(the little narcissist)

can again be seen.

Fade

Sudden sunlight
startles eyes
prepared for gray.
Refocusing reveals
a well lit
gray day
and the stirrings
of light
fade.

Highly Unfocused Habit

I follow the light
as it peeks through
the cracks
creating patterns
on walls
and floors
and crayon drawn girls
who smile
no matter the weather.
It reflects
off framed photographs
creating
double exposed
images.
Letting my eyes unfocus
I create worlds,
beautiful and warm,
until harsh sounds
bring me back
to this day
for now.

The History of Light

Reflected light
paints a window on my wall
but it is only an illusion.
Stepping forward, I look,
and time wavers so I can see--
This house
before it tragically became
yet another office building.
When it housed life
and family.
Back when gas lights burned
and horse drawn wagons delivered ice.
History is evident in the cracks
if you open your eyes
when a window presents
an opportunity.

*In response to Three Word Wednesday