(so I'm a little late)
WINTERSONG--
HARVESTING THE LIGHT
In winter we carry
mirrors
to dark rooms,
harvesting the light;
December’s pale sun
thus becomes
a multitude of suns.
We send candles into
the darkness.
Nothing is wasted.
Seen from the proper
angle
morning sun becomes an
infinity of light
reaching back to the
first sunrise
on the first day,
reaching ahead to the
last.
Dark rooms are
transformed
by prisms of clear
light.
As winter moves into
spring
we adjust the mirrors
in rhythm with the
lengthened days,
tinkering with the
available light;
harvesting, harvesting.
By March we nearly have
it right.
Some of us do, I suppose; the rest of us (ie me) stumble around in the dark, grumbling.
ReplyDeleteA great write, though; especially S2.
PS:
Re your 6 words: one of them has an errant apostrophe... Just sayin.
thanks, Ron. It just looked right. Now it looks funny. =)
ReplyDeletei remember the day I wrote that, how the light just poured across the room, it got kinda magical. thank you.