I cannot tell you
how the light comes.

What I know
is that it is more ancient
than imagining.

That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.

That it loves
searching out
what is hidden
what is lost
what is forgotten
or in peril
or in pain.

That it has a fondness
for the body
for finding its way
toward flesh
for tracing the edges
of form
for shining fortht
hrough the eye
the hand
the heart.

I cannot tell you
how the light comes
but that it does.
That it will.
That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.

And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.
May we lift our faces
to let it find us.
May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still

to the blessed light
that comes.

~ Jan Richardson
(From 𝘛𝘦𝘯 𝘗𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴by Roger Housden)