Light

A shaft of light,
comes through the glaze,
removing me from my misty haze.

A single shaft,
hanging so fair,
in the middle of this air.

It brings to view,
some speckles of dust,
dancing in their misty hue.

Putting out a hand,
to touch this thing grand,
it dissapears from my view.

The shadow i caused,
has removed the light,
from its graceful dance within my sight.

I retract,
and the beam is once more,
gracefully floating as it was before.

A magical sight,
to me is this light,
which has caused me now to write.

The beauty of nature,
People don't see,
The ellegance present so casually.

When it is gone,
it's then that we mourn,
but too late: never again will it be born.