Thursday, November 14, 2019

The Modesty of Light

Light enough to see the cold in the sky,
the east with that mix of pink-blue
clouds that may be the clouds
of cold
           the color beyond category,
the clarity chilling outside and in.
How can such a scene  be seen
without seeing, at least somewhat,
inside ourselves?
                           We are dust and water
and air, blood -- that divine elixir
of life clearly points emphatically 
here, emphatically there.
                                    And now a little
more light arises, breaks, shows
not yet shinning
                         perhaps, as we mark atime,
an hour before the sun fully shows
itself.
         That modesty of light I think about often.

-Byron Hoot

No comments:

Post a Comment

Four Fifteen

Who will volunteer to search yesterday's years for buried slightest traces Of a people born to be weather-torn from their prized and pre...