A feeling of blue

March is the time of the year when I invariably summon the light and the blue.



When I lose myself, time and time again, in the same old pleasure: watching the light hit a wall and bounce back. Waiting for an elastic ray to snap my face, a silent exercise of pure joy.

Once it hits I am there forever, happy paralyzed submissive fly, stunned to the wall trying to swallow the light, engulfed by it. An offering to the sun, abandoned to its grin. Insignificant little parasite who found a home in the skin of the season.




Crisp cool shot of light, sling me into the spring. Make me part of its fine mechanism that propels life a blue further.



And I'm gone... Dipping into the blue, nothing but a brush.