Light

What have you revealed to me that I did not see for myself,

and what truth have you helped me discern,

which, in your shadow,

would have been to me an empty surface,

like a rock held fast by the earth

whose underbelly teems with life,

hiding the plain forms of being that nourish the soil.

When I come to anger,

what more than reason can purify my heart

and sculpt my intentions into the well-being of every person

for the duration of this brief visit.

Or is all goodness stored as light behind the glass of the sky,

to us, translucent,

in some moments shining over the earth.