Summer's black night sky flickers on and off,
backlit to the luminesence of a thousand tiny lanterns.
they dapple the darkness, each with their own little light
carefree and radiant.
flapping, fluttering, glimmering, glowing.
Here time rests. Just this. Only this.
Here at the edge,
the world blinks into and out of existence.
continuity ceases and you might fall endlessly.
Yet when bottom vanishes away
it cannot be called falling, instead
you soar on the strength of your own light.
and the absence that is everything, leaves you so full
there is room for no more. At last, content.
Yet in the blink of another eye,
the world comes crashing through again
the list of tasks incomplete,
the leaning into a future unknown.
I see you with my my whole being now,
perhaps for the first time,
and for now, knowing you are there, is enough.