It is so easy to forget
that light begins our day
and ends it,
that light is the warmth
to which we are drawn
like a plant's leaves are helio-
tropic, turning to face the sun
as surely as a clock
matching the rising, falling arc.
One wonders then how
it is that we don
a wardrobe of darkness,
how all that experience offers
shadows us, how we put on
our days like a suit of musty clothes
draping ourselves in pose,
position, so that the humility to delight
in sunshine, candlelight
goodness abandons us,
and we bear no memory
of how the light
first lifted us out of darkness.
We ignore the simplest truth, forgetting that
it is into light we must surely return.
