When does one start believing that the light one sees in another is owned by that other?
When does one start believing that the light that illuminates their way comes from a being walking beside holding their hand?
When does one start believing that they can’t breathe without moonlight, it is but sunshine reflected.
When does one start believing that light can be bifurcated into yours and mine?
Light exists, cause it never ceases to be.
Light exists, even when our back, or earth turns away.
Light exists, reflecting off every surface that comes to face it.
Light exists, an energy, eternal, unconditional, unjudgemental,
Flowing, flowing, flowing like a eternal river of compassion, love and magnificence.
Light exists, the selfsame in you as in me.
We are bulbs, filaments alighting to glow on and off,
Light exists, with or without us; beaming graciously through us when we switch on.
Light exists, not for us to give or take,
Light exists, surrounds you, just open your eyes, look up at the sun.
I love you.
I love the light through you that sparks mine.
I love you.
I love the darkness through you that cradles mine.
I love you.
Cause you and me are not black or white, dark or light,
We are, mere human born to experience this brilliance of illumination
that lights our way so we may walk
side by side,
hand in hand,
different paths,
different feet,
but our fingers connected by this divine thread of light.
I love you.
Not because you seem to see light in me,
but because in your eyes I see the burning wick, that flame
smoking, spluttering, heated glow that burns
in recognition of the magnitude of this universal source of light.
It’s not me, or you, or anyone of us, we’re mere lighthouses…
housing that energy, an amanat,
throwing shimmering reflections in the ever churning waters below
as the tides rise and fall in the shadows of the moons borrowed light.
