Of Life and Song

I emerge from the cellar I dwell there often but it is not my home I ascend the stairs step by step by step The climb is winding but I make it without complaint I do this often At the top of the stairs sits a small table of mahogany Burnished a shining burgundy with honey upon the table is the vase and across from the table is the light at the center The vase is sea green and boreal impossibly delicate and strong filled with life and song I know it will be shattered soon it does this often … Continue reading Of Life and Song