The Light Collector

I started thinking of who I am and what I do.  All of the conversations I have and things I share came to mind.  I seem to take things shared with me and share them with others.  We all do that in a way.  In a way we are all collectors of light.

The world is a prism,

Bending light into colors,

Beaming light unto points,

Adding color and direction,

To the pathway of life,

Where every soul I meet,

I find something new,

Some quality or truth,

A perspective to share,

And every experience,

Reveals a new part of me,

Something more I am,

The more I can be,

And I find old things,

Made by hand and heart,

Torn apart by time,

Yet in my able hands,

I put it back in rhyme,

For life had touched it,

Oh so long ago,

Before dust had claimed it,

And now I make it glow,

For each life and thing,

Have magic in common,

Connection in motion,

Being touched by a life,

For that magic is heart,

Blazed by imagination,

Seen in a creation,

Or the fire in one’s eyes,

And so I see it,

Alight in love’s way,

Aloft in life’s song,

Surrounding me like stars,

Each one burning bright,

And I share it in travel,

Showing it to other souls,

Giving birth to new dreams,

I am a collector of light.