BORROWING LIGHT
Photo by Jose Antonio Gallego Vázquez on Unsplash. Image description: a hand reaches towards the last of a row of candles in a votive stand.
Tapers flicker, melt down into sand:
the detritus of prayers.
Saints in the windows
gift a murky, fragmented light
to this flat-lit nave, their forms
dimming into color
the incandescence of the sun.
The days are lengthening
because it’s Lent—and
because the clocks have been rigged.
Soon, the sun will hold out longer,
challenge our patience
as we wait for the darkness we need
to practice our vigil for daybreak.
But isn’t it futile to schedule Easter?
Isn’t its annual calendar dance a sign
that Resurrection will always and only
burst forth in its own good time?
Meanwhile, there are days
and days to rehearse that hope.
These tapers slowly burn,
till pools of hot wax mixed with sand
cool and harden: the detritus of prayers
that have been heard,
and having been heard,
have let go of light.
