little beast

the light is through the darkness.

through the dark rainy night,
a little cozy neighborhood,
lit signs midst sparkling streetlights.

midst small doubtful aches, energy leaky,
find tucked away a simple storefront,
a little, beating, beastly eatery.

behind bustling hosts and boasting patrons,
curiosity compels, a little cellar room,
table set for a dozen.

penetrating a cocktail of lives, busy and unread,
sits a little, yet mighty, meaty pie,
companions a bold and rich sip of red.

remembering with bread and wine,
a little light at the table we dine,
the light comes from deeper in.

it’s for the light we’ve come,
and the darkness has not overcome.