Life Be Stained

Life be it stained with glints of sunlight, or tiles blackened and shadows we walk, or floors that reflect like glass our armour winging itself to heaven, flooding the seas and ending with drums rolling and strumming of strings.

Our destiny lies in the sands of Jupiter, beyond the heart of angels, but within reach of today's silent children.

I lay on a piece of wood, my head pillowed, the shirt but a passing gift. Animals spread themselves over the food.

The wind sits on my left shoulder as images place themselves on the walls and ceiling as I look on.