Townsend Lane

A lovely bit of prose from a beautiful mind

The Light is On

At the end of the topmost branch our precipice awaits
Swaying with the music of the wind
These clouds passing by would surely catch us
Already we have lain among them and watched the world.
We didn’t walk the path below—we created it
And found magic breathing on the other side
A place where ropes frayed and branches snapped
We were caught hard by the ground whenever the clouds weren’t there
And mostly the sky was clear.
The night shone through as a morse code message from beyond
Simple to read but impossible to follow
So we waited in the branches, looking up until we understood
And even now we’re waiting.
Swing out over the precipice and dream of letting go
Of feeling what we’ve all seen waiting beyond the edge
Perhaps it is there that the stars will finish their story.

Image by John Collins from Pixabay

P.S. Thank…

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