We ventured back,
my loyal hound and I,
from the edge of shadows black,
where, like a serpent sly,
the light did twist and ply,
of the fallen, its radiant stack.

In our daily haste,
we tread upon its beams,
like on an autumn cast,
shed from lids in dreams,
of friends, lost it seems,
a sibling to us, erased.

Not dog, nor human kin,
but a shaman from on high,
softly whispers in the din,
“Oh, thou one gone awry,
a part of you, oh my,
is missing deep within.

You know this beam,
for you can feel it pass,
through you, a radiant stream,
casting like stained glass,
its spindle, by God’s grace,
you know, a luminous dream.

A STREAK OF LIGHT was originally published in Agora24 on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.