If true light
only comes from true light
then what becomes of me
when the light recedes?
I only relished it for a second
and now I lurk in the corners
where shadows are wedged and stubborn.
If I am to hold anything transcendent
within this breath
when I inhale,
it is not in my DNA or my progeny,
because this is too remote and distant
from that essence of cognition.
I aspire to ascend to where the clouds form
and gently shepherd them
so that there is forever a stream of light
spilling down on the fragile dark earth.