Her Light
I am bathed in her brilliance
the moon, the shining one.
Nothing can stop her light -
not street lights
not concrete or brick or wood
not tree branches.
Nothing can stop her light.
She reaches me,
illuminating me,
my cracks outlined in moonsilver -
the pain
the addiction
the patterns of suffering.
Nothing can stop her light
from
reaching me.
She illuminates me,
bathing my soul in the renewal of change,
every moment a chance to try again.
Andrea Huckleberry Iannone
10/8/2014
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