I see the sound of the light under the door
the wave of
light spreading across the floor
like a pool of spreading oil spilled from a tanker.
I feel that light around me
it is there.
But my ears pressed against glass
do not hear the light.
The sound of tootsie rolls
dancing above me
on a floor of tin
fills me
reminds me of what
I think the light once sounded like.
What noise it made
as I waited for my glass of milk.
As it slid under the door
my milk cold
the light
gone.
Can you tell me where the island is now?
The light is inside all of us, we just have to keep it lit. Great job Doc.
i was in a really dark place when I wrote this poem. My first marriage was being destroyed. i felt like I was a failure as a person, a husband and well it was dark.
My grandfather told me to find the light within.
it became a poem, and later a path out of the darkness. Now I know that what happened then made me stronger now!