epiphanies

shed light,

and

sound light

but aren’t

(light)
 
 

–they’re weighted with truth

and time spent recognizing

such heavy, hidden creeds

In the past,

at impasse,

and on paths

treading restless mile

I’ve found feathers to mark

chance revelations

–flights of fancy grounded

before angels stood guard

and today when

a quill charged with breeze

drifted down from heaven

to land

precisely

in my hand,

The truth of my thoughts

was validated

–gold standard validated, and

piggybacked by realization

the most sacred insight

remains

unspoken.