Where hangs the backlit
stained glass of Marc Chagall.
I am truly and happily
lost.

Reflection, refraction
on watered sunlight.
“All that is, is light.”

There, inside the wave,
two whales, and falling
from the sky,

a feathered cloak,
the thrush who lives
in the grove

behind the house,
each syllable
an illumination of sound

passing through leaves,
branches and thorns,
as from Earth herself,

her wholeness struggling
in wobbling orbits
around a moment of failing light.

Photo by Jeffrey Czum from Pexels