"I am surrounded by beings of light,"
he said, and then,
"Can you see them?"

I could not,
though I did not doubt him;
as surely as he was here,
they had to be here, too–
had to!—
to comfort him, certainly,
perhaps to lead him along.

Then, surprising myself,
I wanted to see them, too,
passionately.
    Cancerous beings of darkness
    had clouded our lives for too long,
    eating his body,
    eating our souls, wills, hope.
I said, "Where are these beings of light?
I must see them."

With effort, he turned his head toward me,
squinted:
"Draped over your shoulders."
This came from him like a sigh.
"Another rests his hands on yours."
His eyes closed.

Mine widened.
My shoulders? My hands?
Perhaps desire was enough:
I felt the light
though I saw it not–
ease as my shoulders loosened,
release as my hands unclenched.

I whispered,
"Beings of light,
take us."

Text and
image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.