by Gary S. Rosin

The dove descending breaks the air ...
      --T. S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"

Light across the wall,
full of fire and shadows,
we see without eyes,

fire and shadows, falling
outside the familiar.

How are we to know,
how even to imagine,
what is lost when light

bends through parallel panes,
scatters off surfaces?

What stands between,
what gets caught in passing,
falls as a shadow,

a shadow we take as light,
give the shape of a dove?

A dove, descending,
falls into creation,
loses its way,

forgets how to wear
a body made of light,

wings, full of fire.

Parallax Views

4P Creations

Text and Photographs, Copyright © 2006 by Gary S. Rosin