Dark Light

The room is dark.

The candle flickers,

and the candle's flickering flame gleams against a white wall.

It illuminates,

and in supplying shadows livens the room.

And when in bed,

Lost in mysterious field of my own,

I harvest the season's crop.

A self-employed cherry-picker,

I gather good fruit,

As well as the bad.

Summon what it may be,

In my wakeful sleep,

May my illusory become my reality.

I remain a frugivorous being,

still in a dark room where the candle flickers.

Close your eyes, enjoy the feast.

Close your eyes, There's no more flicker. H!