I have come to you subtle as a sailor with the ocean in his eyes heavy with all the light as he has collected in his journeys & now wants to give to you the light he has carried like a lantern over dark oceans in to black countries frightening strange tribes of people who had never before known the story of light I have come to you subtle as an old man on the verge of death who has hoarded light all of his life a ton of it locked up in a back room a light that has no memory of wandering a light that is lost & without feet a light that will gather around your face every morning as you rise from the beds of your dream
It is the morning of my sorrow & she lays asleep in bed & even as the sun comes up light gathers around her face. Outside the world is cold stiff & cumbersome. I can feel the cold in my hands. Blue rivers running through my fingers, meeting in my wrists they continue their long blue journey to the great ocean of the heart. The heart’s red fingers for a moment splayed open then suddenly closing.