A Prism

Please enjoy reading and relishing this lovely poem by my friend Kay:

Kay Mullen’s poetry has appeared in a variety of journals and anthologies.  She is the author of three full length poetry books, Let Morning Begin, 2001, A Long Remembering: Return to Vietnam, 2006, and more recent, Even the Stone, 2012.  She earned an MFA from Pacific Lutheran University in 2007.  Kay lives and teaches in Tacoma WA, USA.

A Prism

hangs from a kitchen window.
Shapes of refracted light sprinkle
through the room, illumine
the space with the glory of gold.

On the way into town,
a prism dangles from a cord
in the car ahead, rainbow colors
sparkle as the crystal shifts.

These shimmering seconds, these
pinpoints of jewels and unspoken
gems fill reserves of the day
the way perceptions
pass through a painting or a poem.

When darkness appears, moon bows
fill the night and in the blend of a life,
sun softly mirrors itself
in sleep.

In morning, these beams of light
disperse in the seconds and hours
of another day.
The awakened know
this candescence cannot be owned

but flows from reflections
content that even the night holds all
that is needed,
know the light passing through
makes itself more visibly present.

Kay Mullen

photo credit:  www.artexpertswebsite.com  Sonja Delanney