Light on the Page

But Is This World A Heaven Or A Hell?

But is this world a heaven or a hell? The answer might just as well be in the gleaming of a rainbow. Is the rainbow made of light or does the dark of rain cause it to spring into being? The answer, of course, is both, but finally it depends on where you stand, how you see it – on your own sight. For the rainbow is a thing of vision. Light and dark are partners through the year and play me, too, into hues I’ve never seen before. They make me into what I am – an ever-changing thing whose truth depends on where you stand. But I know that at this darkest time of year the season itself brings me close to a Light so great that I feel that I’ve never been.

And at this season the animals rise and look – they feel their creaturehood, they listen into the silence of the year and herald, with their crowing or barking or roaring, the fall of a single snowflake, the gentle landing of a stardrop. Then the doors of sight lift open and the heart is all. What is the last part of creation to come through those doors but that divinity of light and dark which is the human being? And yet, despite all, the beasts will find their peace in hill and park.

So my candles burn – it is the normal usage of day to find a light which will carry into the night. The animals curl up by me in stillness while the frosted world outside grows white. These creatures will speak before the year is done and give their master news of Light to come. If he could ride out with them or run, that Light would thaw the heart which had for years been numb.

So is this world a heaven or a hell?

Hues

So is this life a heaven or a hell?

Then ask the rainbow if it’s made of light

or if the dark of rain will make it swell -

it’s how you see it, where you stand, your sight.

For light and dark are partners through the year

and play me into hues I’ve never seen.

But at this tide the season brings me near

to Light so great I feel I’ve never been.

Divinity

Now every creature crows or barks or roars

the silence of the year, a snowflake’s fall,

a stardrop’s gentle landing where the doors

of sight lift open and the heart is all.

Which last part of creation will come through

but the divinity of light and dark

which is the human being? – and yet it’s true

the beasts will find their peace in hill and park.

Numb

My candles burn: the usage of the day

to seek a light which carries into night.

The animals curl up by me and stay

in stillness while the frosted world grows white.

Yet they will speak before the year is done

and give their master news of Light to come,

which, if he could ride out with them or run,

would thaw the heart which had for years been numb.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved