Live for Light

I live

For light

Not made by the day

But by low ceilings

And boxy rooms,

With obscure books

And musty pages.

 

I live

For the air

Filled with snow

Like the dust from those books.

But the life that it gives

Is the difference between

The forest floor rot

And the ice in my glass.

 

I live

For the ghost

In the day

Who appears with those

Who draw us nearest

 

I live

In the house

Whose bricks hold our hope

Engraved with our ancestors

From nations afar.

With hands softly golden,

Proven by time,

Giving light to the deep,

And grasping our minds.

 

I live

Sweetly called

Cradled and hung

Carefully sewn

Ripped up and patched

Holy garments made whole

So,

Thanks for it all.

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