The Battle for Light

Light still shines in the window
but for how long?
Dark. Smothering.
The dark vines grow
like a disease,
insidious,
a thing or art,
leaving you
a museum piece,
or worse,
a ruin.

There is no escape
without battle,
without sharp blades
to cut away the creeping death
for it is war
no matter how beautiful.

About this poem

This is one of those multilayer poems I like to write so much. Physical. Emotional. Spiritual. We have to battle for our light in every realm. At least, some of us do.

The picture was taken in Brattleboro, VT.

Be well,

Tom