Light=Life

Watch the light as it comes and goes by the nick of a particular time. Translucent tides just consuming our eyes as they beg to stop the streams that burn the iris. Nothing to watch much, but we can never look away.  Suffocated by its tremendous beauty, but it hurts to stare. A distance only reached by the imagination I reach and reach until one eye closes to the touch. In the distant range of imagination I pierce my view of you to be this great object, which gives the rest life. Are we wrong of your doings or is it true that you shed glory on the living so that life may remain in continuation? Watch the light as it comes and goes by the nick of a particular time and in the distance range of imagination pierce your view of it to be this great object that gives you life.