In Your Farm
I have nothing
but a piece of white paper
and a black ink pen.
How do I capture the night
awash in a million flickering lights
from fireflies that will not see the dawn of day?
How do I record the scene of overwhelming awe
of a blanket of golden lights covering the fields of black
overflowing beyond the dark horizon?
How shall I trace each blade of grass silhouetted
only by an eighth of a moon and blurred by the sizzling lights,
what about the flowers and leaves?
My eyes did not see the darkness
nor did my ears hear the quiet stillness
of the night when you were there.
I was only told by our youngest sister,
her words filled with excitement
and longing
For you have been gone for a while.
sometimes I cannot remember how long
all I know is that I miss you.
Everyday I feel the space
you left in that place where the nights are awash in a million lights
from fireflies that will not see the dawn of day.
I see the flickering lights when I open my eyes
and hear the silence of the fading night, it is morning
and you dwell in my heart.
