I Gather Words…

WORDS

I gather words, 
As a forest gathers sunlight through the interstices,
As a hut collects light through the crevices of a thatched roof.
The book I open is the sun that is ready
To beam into the depths of the earth in full swing,
But is impeded by the dough made in between
Neighbours ringing the doorbell.

I read a sentence,
And someone pops up from nowhere
Demanding a chit-chat I can’t shake off.
I read the next line --
It stumbles on twigs and leaves,
Orders of tea and snacks,
Demands for meals to be cooked and served,
To water plants,
Relentless demands of the household.

I read one more line and I am held up by offshoots.
My boy comes asking me to join him,
If not in play, to nap with him,
 “Please don’t read Mama, simply look at me.”

Dropping on these leaves and limbs,
The light in its fullness forms rays and showers.
Still, I get glimpses to gather,
The filtered vignettes of lights and beams
 I convert into,
Lightning and thunder.