I’ve called it many names.
It changes with time.
Much like us humans do.
This place is peaceful to me.
It fills the void where darkness sits.
Casually, it rips our souls. . 
Piece by piece, till all the light fades out.
This place brightens the candle.
As if the words of yesterday flew by.
Zipping through the sky.
At its mercy, I sit.
Gripping, brush in hand.
Prayer through art, Waiting.
For its flicker.
A moment, a memory
Forgotten
Amongst the chatter
Illusioned by the strokes
Of color, fragmented by its structure
Fluctuating with emotion
The temorary rift
Colliding sins
Only the mind creates. 

I imagine. .
. . .
Walking though luscious fields.
Tracing my fingers along
Beds of yellow Poppys
I can feel the birds fly over
Their shadows cast upon the landscape
Dow eyes hidden gehind trees.
As countless seeds pollinate.