Encounters with the Light

I wait
For what?

For something that could come
or not
for inspiration that I’ve sought
in secret places of the soul
and mind, but recently forgot
to look for fleeting things,
to see the fragment in the whole

Sometimes a fearful thought
persists – perhaps the things forgot
are more than all the solid things
I hold so tightly now

But how
does one remember loss?

There was a formless place
where I was known and knew
the fallen leaf, the dappled lake
as something strange, mysterious
and pure

And now I walk with purpose, sure
of many things
except the ones that I could see
before me in this passing space
By light I see
but I do not see light
the way I used to see

a flicker on an outstretched branch –
a strip across a pavement crack –
a ray that falls upon a fallen face –

those utterly unnecessary, radiant,
inconsequential sights
encounters with the light
forgettable and unimportant but
transformative and holy sites

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