This is the time,
light rises to such a level,
dark cobwebs are left behind.
No worries, dark mounds of fear
are just clutter to me.
I sweep carefully though because
some souls want to come along,
and others don’t.

Using broad strokes around market stalls,
behind the scene happenings
are a mess.
It’s a heap of shiny foil, sequins and glitter.
Hopeful, I sweep leaving a path of knowingness
that there’s more to life, so be grateful.

Picking sugar skulls off the ground,
I blow the dust off, and place them on the shelf with
the others.
I don’t mind, that’s why I’m here.
Lending a helping hand because there
many choices, so many colors.
We all get other chances.

Its nighttime,
eyes of marigolds stare at me.
Burning sockets of candles
glow with so much history.
Some lives experienced in a sunset,
others in the glimpse of a comet
lighting the sky.
Life and death stories I can never know.

I hang up my broom,
ever so lovingly. Sweepers unite!
Success is but one more sweep forward
into the rebirth of sunrise.

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