There is a light of a different kind
In darkness, lit blue lights
A vision it takes to see
The visible through fleeting lights

Alone in groups they stay
Calm and conversant
Ever chanting, rhythmic voices low
Reverberant and slow

Breathless under the unrelenting sea
Through darkness one sees
The pathways in twilight
To Allay and alleviate
Woke to the crimson sky

.

Nights don’t change…

Perhaps just the stories
they weave in infinites
from the fires of stars
and embers of hearts…

Or perhaps it’s the way
they were captured
and deciphered;
Reworded and retuned
to the song and dalliance
of the hand-wielded ink.