Your love is of a sacred kind, that leaves me basking in the afterglow of your longing embrace.
There I find myself alight with emotions so radiant that their golden rays burst forth from my ribcage as if holy arrows have pierced my very soul.
And it is in your divine light that I wish to remain ever more.

White radiant light and spectral sun
Dark nightshade black and splitting moon.
Here’s dreaming of a fractured world
Where then’s too late and now’s too soon.

White strands float with darkness looming
Fearing what might fail to be
Elusion from that one bright true thing
Cruel circles of eternity.

But when the line of shadow’s passed
And brightness welcomes strands of white
We shall see no shadows last
They grow and fade in Nightshade’s light.

I observed outside the windowpane in contemplation while marveling at the nature between the radiant sunray, and the blooming myrtle.  My coffee was brewing in the French press I have owned for as long as I could remember. The view of the garden gave me the impression of a pastel dream, a melancholy longing for some forgotten reminiscence.

moonlight is invoked
as a beacon--
in taut-fingered metaphor
as beauty's parallel.
but its power is in reflection,
in meditation, in echo.

but what value is there
in light stolen and returned
softer, gentler?

maybe understanding
that these radiances exist in balance
and liken their charm
in effigy to ourselves.

Breathe in energy
Breathe in light
Breathe in prosperity
Breathe in delight

Feel limbs relaxing
Feel more flow
Feel greater confidence
Watch your dreams grow

Breathe in radiance
Breathe in health
Let your breath resonate
With the rhythm of wealth

Feel the guidance
From above
Breathe in the plan for you
Created in love

A sparkling light of hope shines
With a heart rate multiplied by 2
The feeling of comfortability and divine
Is part of that third eye breakthrough

On a full moon day, and
On a cold starry night, over
By a meandering river side,
when reflections are your only friend,
It wasn't the moon that was radiant,
rather it was her beautiful glowing face that was in splendor,
because all I could see was her.

Maybe there are no new places to discover,
There are no new lands to conquer,
There are no new ideas to decipher,
There are no new relations to acquire, yet
There is only one thing to admire,
Her words and her soft demeanor, and
I am her fanciful well wisher.

My sunlight burgeons,
burns, brightens, sears, and sees all.
I'm the son of light.