By Allison Brown
Crystals of light beam through the faded, jagged cracks in the window.
Reds blur into oranges into greens;
fractals distorted to mere flutters of the rainbow
as it settles down into the cracks of the tile floor
flowing as marrow in our bones.
crisscrossed stitched together not by the past,
but by the present.
A mosaic of light burns inside the room
as we learn to remain while letting go;
meandering as fragments of the Divine.
Paused for a moment here
forged by a fire yet not yet refined
traveling to be molded poured from a concoction of dyes getting
chiseled and chipped away to discover the true picture-
becoming a reflection to the world around us.
On this road
seasons change and so do we.
Morphing between perennials and annual’s
discovering the beauty in growing alongside
sprouting up to see our neighbors
we might have oft forgotten in our days of the dirt.
Now visible to others bees come and find sweet pollen
gorging until they at last pass it along,
To another field
To another fragment in the mosaic.