Lightning - Moneca, her name – electrified my spirit,
shocked my soul into a glowing light of desire,
a desire to live beyond the states of neutrality,
of stagnation that existed – all that was left for a once
moving, vital, vibrant being that was, once,
and now is again hanging onto the very edges
of what is left - of youthful adventures,
of those experiences and journeys.
How does one’s spirit, one’s soul hang onto
the very edges of hazy dreams, of misty desires.
That elusive light of golden hues and Autumn greens ?
How does the knight, in realization of, lay down his sword
and give up the quest for love’s light- ning ?
B. J. “A” 2
May 5th 2008
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield