The light may have poured out of the moon or it may have seeped from a secret spring.
As astonished as the seer, this light pools in trusting eyes.
It sparkles as an echo of blue sound, reverberates from deep-water memory like whale song. Through summer scented leaves the light whispers remembrances of long ago, a blanket of wonder woven of warm sun and soft rain.
This light is a beating heart, a golden pulse. It may have spilled from the moon, or maybe the light spills forth from you.
Here are Six Sentences though not much of a story. Read more Sixes and leave Six Sentences of your own at GirlieOntheEdge’s blog. Prompt word this week: “memory”.