Ethereal lights dance upon the ceiling,
perhaps branches swaying in street lights play,
their shadows reflecting; yet shadows don’t glow,
don’t radiate these colored lights,
as if glow worms dancing a baroque waltz,
I cannot quite see the source, just lights in array
swirling wildly across the ceiling,
and I, feeling somewhat in awe of the possibility.
Blues and oranges, yellows and purples,
each one a tiny light gliding in ovals,
their paths like lines slowly decaying
as they dance about my fears allaying,
even though I know not what they are,
my fascination by far
the wonder of my heart,
for they seems joyous.
Ethereal light now consume my room,
dashing here and there,
on floor and walls, so tiny yet radiant
their colours blending as each movement sending
colors melding, and new colors assume,
grasp my attention, my wonder aghast,
but as one does venture closer
and sit so lightly upon my arm, I see a little face.
It’s delicate form so light and cheerful,
it smiles and then takes off,
a blur as my eyes try to follow,
and together with maybe forty lights,
they play so elegantly, so delicately
their dance of life, I am wordless to describe,
the heart-warming feeling inside,
as these lights did play for minutes after.
Fear removed, joy instilled,
I just lay and watched them be,
like witnessing an artistic yielding of light,
colors merging, flashing, contrasting, parting
and creating a show to be believed,
and I was so beguiled by their vibrant purpose,
I just became lost, as if those lights
became all there was.
And as their trails began to meld together,
those swirls of light amassed upon each wall,
a sudden shift ensued and darkness
once more befell my room,
in the silence of dancing shadows,
where no light could consume the dark,
and I felt dim of heart, missing what they gave to me,
a gift of light so prestigiously bestowed.
Tony DeLorger © 2018