The Trail Of Light Poem by RIC BASTASA

no more shall i count
the days
mind them, i stopped
they pass
that is what they are
markers of
time,

inexhaustible, it is i,
who is
diminishing, but that is,
of course,
not the end, the diminution
is but
a stage, for something that
speaks of wings,
of the vastness of
anonymity
that most of those
who here
have mistaken as nothing,
it is a hazy door
which when
at the right time, opens,
becomes
a trail of
light, and we,
happily
shall follow.