Lonely Light

 

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I like reflected light the best—
the kind that carves actors out of their settings
the kind that carves the moon out of the night sky
the kind that tickles the tiny moves in a still pond
the kind that lets us see anything at all.
 
It’s all reflected light unless we look directly into the source.
Light sources blind us temporarily with spots before our eyes,
or permanently as in unprotected eclipse gazing (they say—
I’ve never tried it).  Safer is the very weak light
of a match or the candle and campfire it lights.
 
I love gazing at firelight in the dark:
the kind that focuses meditation
the kind that plays with imagination
and brings story and mythic creatures to life
the kind that throws long shadows.
 
In front of long shadows, Peter Pan’s shadow
has a life and substance of its own,
and we can imagine stitching it back on.
In front of a small source or reflected light
community draws together intimately.
 
I loved rubbing shoulders with you
near our many campfires.  I loved our moonlit walks
and the metaphors that flew around us then—

the eye of God, or our guardian angel, or our guide
into the future where all dreams come true.

For my prompt "Light" at What's Going On? 

My blog poems are rough drafts.

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© 2025 Susan L. Chast