Ink veins golden across black pages
rise and fall with the dawn
the ebb and flow onward through time
on the wings of coming night
In halls echoing with other voices
the end walks searching for itself
In caves mining memory
drunk on it, refined, pure, unhinged
Eyes to the sky and a voice that might shatter it
standing already at the mouth of darkness
begging always for more light
to carry deeper into the cave
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Image by Joshua Nicholas Vanhaltren from Pixabay
Mitchel David Ring 
6 responses to “More Light”
First, the words “black pages” jarred me – I was expecting “blank.” But after reading the poem all the way through several times, I see it works. My apologies for thinking it was a typo.
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No worries, it’s my fault if something doesn’t read well! (; I thought of that line while I was standing on a rooftop at night. I saw all the golden lights stretching across Colorado to the East, and thought of it as it would look like from above. It was like I could see the map, while I was also a part of it.
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No, no, it reads perfectly! It’s a very good line.
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Well thank you (: cheers
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Seems to be going around.
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I was wondering what was happening to me. And then I read this… Thanks
In caves mining memory
drunk on it, refined, pure, unhinged
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