still: life

the deepest darkest place in my being

a place I once dwelled too often

is dark, but the realization has come

that it is still light

with its many shades of grey,

a lot of black,

and some white

but still: light

I have often asked

as many before me have:

why is there suffering?

now, I ask:

why do I feel so alive,

when I go to that deep, dark place

with its many shades of grey,

a lot of black,

and some white

but still: light

or

still: life…

dreams

my dreams dance at night…

the characters: my loved ones, my friends, my subliminal criminals who come forth to tell a tale that’s been long written with rewrites as we speak with pen strokes of our choices that lie upon the paper that is our breath…