For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape wearing a light dusting of snow. From the hill, where skeletal heather and brown grasses pierce the snow, a valley spreads out below, lit by the rays of a pale sun.
Light shining from a thousand different worlds
That our eyes cannot see while we stand
on hard snow frosted ground.
The heart says yes, they are there. One day soon,
lucky heather may give me a glimpse
Of the world hidden within the light
For now, I wonder at the beauty
The majesty of such a sight
that my eyes can see. As I go to walk away,
looking back at my empty footprints
Could someone be following me?
I see the light shift, as though blown by the wind
A dancing curtain of light, teasing my mind
Strange images, stranger sounds
Haunt my journey home…