Poem: light

A shaft of sunbeam awakens me at dawn.
My slumber has been of one dead for a thousand years:
Deadened by thoughts of culpability and then,
Sudden innocence.

Awe and wonder overtake the moment
As the light settles in.
But fear raises expectations of loss and
Grandeur — neither of which hold a place
In this reality, nor a grasp on the epiphany.

(This is the light of choice.

This is the light of choice.

This is the light of choice.)

Opening the shades fully,
I take in the miraculous, blue of
A cloudless
Father sky.