As the reach of shadows lengthen and the world turns cold and indifferent, the soul seeks to find its way home, a place it's never been, teased by instinct.
As the earthβs own shadow cloaks a world the body rests and the mind dreams, leaving the soul to wander, across the earth in its lifelessness.
As the world makes peace with itself, where the night sky betrays its cold demeanor, and dawn's light misses its cue, spilling early the flames borne from a snowfall's sky.
As porchlights pierce and dot a peaceful haze, the snow naturally draped over me like a blanket, and so I had to watch the world with wonder and a certain comfort.
yellow streetlights call us home in memory, as so in childhood
i remember a rich wisteria night sky, pouring a soft and silky rain of immaculate crystals. at the bottom of the cul-de-sac, three inches of snow on the mailbox my parents ushered me inside, afraid iβd get cold, but i forgot to be.
a yellow streetlight illuminated the flowing wisps who became snow when they touched down onto the earth i swore that they winked to me in their final moment through the glistening of their eyes
i remember catching them, wanting to save them but they melted into my hands instead or got lost in my warm breath yet even in their demise, they winked and with ever-glistening eyes, said goodbye to me
this is to where my soul would first wander after its body freed it at last, where a bed of jovial wisps across the whole cold earth could tuck me in under the yellow streetlight