Untitled Poem

A glow, a floating, a delight,
like dust motes in the light

Your voice, so calm and of even measure ...
oh yes, ...we want gold, sex, but isn't this the treasure?

in grace to float across the floor,
while in mind flying, doing mundane chore

days reel off ... days, months, years,
is this the path of light, the banishment of fears?

by Eddie