Crystal Seeds

Fog, black and grey.
Smells of funghi on this dark day.
God!
How much nothing is left,
and how much love?
The blue arc of sky in splendour,
powder smooth,
vanilla,
soft and warm.

High, beyond this wet dry mist.
Past the dust that kisses my skin,
and touches me out and in.

I reach and get an arm wet.
How the sunlight makes stars in the drops,
the place where darkness stops.
A million blinking children of hope,
of light,
crystal seeds in the smoke.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.