A BRIEF ILLMINATION

A memory, a brief impression like a stamp on my infant brain of curtains floating on a breeze. 
fingers of sunlight move across the rug of red and gold,
leaving an empty space behind them.
I sit alone there, against a blank wall of a blank room,
my body consumed by blankness, seeing only red and gold in a vast plain across the horizon of my eyes. 
it fills my mind with a throbbing energy, those golden fingers,
the pulse of the earth.
a loss, so complete in its self, a loss that can only be felt by a child as the fingers retreat out the window to mingle 
among the sun lit flakes of summer.
I am left alone among the blankness, as the red and gold fade in to an 
empty grey.