I carry it
as a satchel
its’ strap hung across my chest

sometimes when I run
through the loops of time
and the great expanse of memory
it sways and thumps
against my hip

still I bring it with me
always choosing to carry its’ luminance
untouchable
by anyone else or anything else

inside the canvas of my bag
lies hope and it’s brilliant light
from birth
till the day of return
I venture with it by my side
choosing to keep it on